Losing Sleep
by DistinctVagueness
Summary: Unable to sleep, Hermione goes for a late night walk and comes across Professor Snape returning from Voldemort. It opens her eyes to how much of a mystery his character really is. SeverusHermione. Chapter 13 up!
1. Chapter One

**Losing Sleep**

**By DistinctVagueness**

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**Anti-litigation charm- **I will only say this once. The Harry Potter 'verse is the property of one J.K Rowling, the goddess I bow down to. Any character, concept or setting that you recognise is hers and should be treated by such. I'm just borrowing them for a little while. I'll put Severus back…honest.

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**Chapter 1**

His breath came harsh and heavy and he stumbled, barely catching himself before he hit the gravel path. He cursed at the pain that coursed through his leg but limped on, regardless, clutching one arm to his chest. Somehow, he managed to reach the doors of the castle without another fall and wrenched it open.

The dim candlelight of the castle's entrance hall greeted him and for once he was glad of it. But typically, he was left with no time to rest there and slowly made himself continue across the stone floor and down the steps that led to the dungeons, leaving the light far behind. Even as a student he hadn't missed the irony, but the corridors beneath the castle always held more lure than they might initially promise.

Gripping the banister with his one good hand, he made it off the last step and held in the groan of pain that threatened to escape him. He couldn't chance waking anyone. Not now. He carried on unsteadily, his hands trusting the walls to guide him. If he could just make it a few more steps, he'd be in his quarters and closer to the potion he'd brewed before he left. 

Without warning, his body gave way to the pain seconds before he could grasp the door handle. He suppressed the cry he wanted to give as he collapsed to the ground. Not quite unconscious, he attempted to reach his wand but his hand didn't seem to be acquiescing with his needs. He closed his eyes in both pain and frustration and hoped the effects of the curse would tire of him soon. There were only a few hours until the students would arise and if he was come upon like this…

Severus Snape groaned. He really wasn't in the mood for an Infirmary stay.

Hermione Granger stared at the pages in annoyance. There was no use in trying, she decided, closing the book with a thump. For once, reading wasn't distracting her from her inability to sleep.

She glanced around the Common Room, dimly lit by the fire, which was burning down to its embers now. _What I'd give for a television now,_ she thought. Any inane late night comedy would do, just something that would make her drop off. She looked at her watch. Two o' clock in the morning. She hoped the time alone would make her yawn, but no such luck. 

Hermione stood up. Maybe some exercise would do the trick. Being Head Girl had its advantages- late night walks were one of them. Pulling on her cloak over her pyjamas, she climbed out of the portrait hole and out into the dark hall. Realising she was going to lose her way in the shadows, she took out the small jar she kept in her pocket and said the words required to conjure a small blue flame. She nodded in approval as it sprung up and started to walk along the corridors.

Most of the portraits were asleep, snoring peacefully in their frames, but the few that were not called out a greeting to her. After a little chat with Norman the Nostalgic, she decided to make her way to the entrance hall. The Grey Lady often haunted there at this time and she was sometimes an interesting ghost to hold a conversation with, until her voice began to hold a wistful tone, which often signified the best time to leave.

As Hermione came towards the sweeping staircase, she heard a noise. The door to the castle was creaking open; she'd heard the sound often enough to recognise it. Logic told her that it could easily be any of the teachers; Professor Sprout was harvesting some interesting plants from Arabia that needed careful attention every three hours, or even a student, breaking the rules.

But nerves told her it could easily be someone else.

Feeling silly, but not wanting to be seen, the Head Girl crouched down and shuffled forward, peering through the gaps in the banister railings. What she saw made her crane forward for a closer look. Something that moved like a shadow was closing the door gently behind them. She heard a muffled groan and her eyes widened.

Professor Snape.

She watched as he staggered across the floor, his arm held tightly to his chest. From one of his voluminous pockets peeked a corner of black cloth and a flash of silver.

_Voldemort, _was her first thought. He'd been to a Death-Eater gathering, obviously. Snape might seem like a creature of the night, but there could only be one good reason for his stumbling in back to the dungeons in the middle of the night. 

Hermione couldn't be sure of what exactly had been done to him except that his arm looked broken.

As she watched, Snape took his time down the steps, grimacing and gripping to the handrail. Though she wanted to, something told her not to run to Dumbledore or McGonagall. Was he capable of taking care of this himself? Was this the first time he had come back this way?

Strange curiosity peaked; Hermione stole down the carpeted stairs and made her way down into the dungeons, making sure her footfalls weren't heard.

The black shadow ahead of her was feeling his way along the walls and she could hear his sharp intake of breath when he paused. Snape was leading the way towards the Potions classroom until he made a right and limped slowly towards his office door. She hid around the corner as he stopped by the door. She could see him reaching for the handle when his tall frame swayed unsteadily and crumpled to the ground. There was a loud groan and Snape lay silent.

Her eyes wide in horror, Hermione slipped round the corner and raced towards his still body.

Severus Snape's eyes were closed and for one terrifying second she thought he was lifeless. Then his chest rose slowly to take in air. Hermione exhaled in relief. Her pale hand hovered over his body, unsure of what to do. She began to shake his shoulder gently.

"Professor? Are you-? _Professor?"_

His long lashes flickered slightly and he said something incomprehensible. Hermione stared down at his pallid face. It was whiter than usual and his wet hair was caked to his skull, a long strand pasted across his forehead.

"_Professor?" _Hermione shook him harder. "Please, _please_ wake up," she begged. For all her logical mind could cope with, this was one situation it hadn't been prepared for and she didn't know what she was supposed to do.

_Think, Hermione. You can't leave him out here. Anyone could find him._

Hermione slowed her breath, forcing herself to calm down. Panicked Hermione couldn't help him.

She glanced towards his office. He had obviously been aiming to go there. Her mind kicked into gear. There must be something, some potion, or spell that could ease his pain inside. She looked around the dark corridor quickly to ensure nobody was around before putting her hand on the handle and pushing the door open. Swiftly, she brought out her wand and pointed it at her Professor.

"_Mobilicorpus!"_  The prone body of Snape lifted easily into the air. She walked slowly backwards into his office, her wand held high, with him following. Once he was safely inside, she closed the door and took in his office. There was nowhere he could safely place him, and the floor looked too hard and cold to be accommodating. Then she spotted another door, half hidden by a wall tapestry. She crossed to it, her hand still in the air and pressed down on the handle, hoping against hope that he hadn't warded it before he'd left. 

Apparently, he had had some sort of foresight, for the door swung inwards easily. She breathed out in relief. There was a black couch before a fire in what looked to be his sitting room. She allowed him to drift across the room to float above the couch before she lowered her wand. Snape landed softly upon the cushions, barely moving.

Now sure that he was safe for the time being, Hermione went back through the open door and into the office. She needed to find something that could ease the pain. She scanned the room impatiently; desk, bookcase, glass fronted cabinet and a tall cupboard. There. She went to open it and was surprised again to find she wouldn't require an Unlocking Charm. She opened both doors and looked through all the contents. There were plenty of glass flagons in here, all tightly corked and neatly labelled in his spidery handwriting. Hermione sighed in frustration. She obviously couldn't try them all.

Then she spotted something. One bottle on the second shelf had been pushed forward, more so that the others. There was no label and the cork was loose.

The liquid inside was a murky purple, similar to the colour of a Healing Potion she'd made the year before. If he had hit by a curse, which seemed the most liable reason for his pain, he might have prepared it in advance. Biting her lip, she decided to take the chance and went back into the other room.

Snape was still unmoving, except for a muscle beneath his left eye which twitched repeatedly. She looked at him closely. His arm was still atop his chest. Gently, she lifted it and pulled away his ragged robe sleeve.

Hermione grimaced. The skin there was bruised, an unhealthy mix of blue and purple. Taking pains not to disturb him, she squeezed it gently before nodding grimly to herself. It was most definitely broken. Still, it wasn't too severe a problem. A simple spell could fix it. Problem was, Hermione had never tried it before. Torn between attempting the spell and worrying whether it would make the injury worse, Hermione took her wand out again and placed the potion bottle upon the nearby table. Hoping for the best, she took a deep breath.

With the specified flick of her wand, she calmly said, _"Exsarcio."_

Nothing happened for a few moments until she saw a faint rippling beneath his skin. Thinking it had worked, she was taken aback at a sudden cracking noise from Snape's arm.

Her face fell at the thought that the spell had created a worse problem. Deciding to let it go for the time being, she went to put down her wand. At that moment, Snape's once broken arm shot out and grabbed her own with unnerving strength for the state he was in.

She gasped and tried to move back but his grip was too tight, his fingers pinching her skin. Hermione cried out at the sudden pain. Snape's eyes still hadn't opened, but he spoke to her.

"Damn medi-witch," he croaked. "I can fix this. Leave me be!" His grip loosened slightly.

Hermione hesitated for a second and then answered him quietly. "I'm not Madam Pomfrey, Professor...I- Professor?"

His eyelids had opened a crack and she caught a glimpse of his dark irises.

"Who…" he broke off and began to cough. It was a horrible noise, hacking and dry. She winced as he tried to pull himself up.

"Professor? If you'll let me, I'm going to give you this potion to drink. I think it might help you."

Snape started drowsily. "What? No, cupboard…my office…sec-second shelf…" His words faded into another bout of coughs.

When he had finished, Hermione placed her hand across his mouth, without thinking. "Don't talk," she told him firmly. "I've got the potion you want. If you can just sit up a little more, I'll give it to you."

His lips moved slightly but he didn't say anything. With difficulty, he pushed himself up onto the cushions, Hermione giving him her arm for support. She removed her hand from his mouth once he was settled and reached over for the potion.

Hermione uncorked the bottle and then put one hand behind his head, tilting it back. "Good. Now, if you can open your mouth, I'll put the bottle to your lips for you to drink. Are you okay to swallow it, sir?"

Hermione didn't recognise her own voice. In a situation which would make anyone, even her logical self, panic and act on instinct, she was talking calmly and making a rational decision on how to help her Professor. Her tone didn't shake or hesitate. In fact, she could identify it with his own even voice when he instructed his class to clear up a potentially dangerous Potions accident.

There was a vague movement of his head, signifying a 'yes' to her question. Without further ado, she brought the bottle to his mouth and tipped it slightly, allowing a little of the liquid to spill into his mouth. It was easier than she'd expected; he caught on quickly and had emptied the bottle with just a few swallows.

Once she'd set the bottle down, she was pleased to see that it had calmed him somewhat, the once erratic movements of his chest had relaxed and slowed into a steady rhythm.

Hermione had done what she could, but she realised that she'd have to find the Headmaster. This was too big for her to deal with by herself.

"Just stay still," she whispered. "I'm going to get Dumbledore."

The reaction was immediate. Snape's eyes shot open and he looked at her urgently.

"No!"

Hermione was startled and looked at him in confusion. "Sir…I have to get someone…I can't just leave you here-

"No, not Albus…the potion is already taking effect…I don't want him down here…"

His unlikely tone struck her. Was Professor Snape pleading with her? His black eyes were searching her face, not in recognition of who she was, but of what she would do. Hermione regarded him in trepidation, thoughts rushing through her head. Would it be right to leave him here alone like this? Was there a reason he didn't want the Headmaster to see him? She was sure the Headmaster knew of what dangers lay in wait for Snape when he went to pay homage to Voldemort. There was no way he could be ignorant of them.

She worried her lip between her teeth. Snape had seemed better a moment ago, before she'd mentioned Dumbledore. Surely sleep would help him further?

"He _knows_…I don't need to-" Snape took in breath sharply as he turned on the couch, trying to sit up again. 

"No, don't…I won't go to Dumbledore," Hermione said worriedly, trying to stop him. "Please…sir…just lie down. I'm _not_ going to Dumbledore."

Snape relaxed slightly but his eyes still looked suspicious as she eased him down again.

He lay there for a while, still, dark eyes gazing emotionlessly at the ceiling until they began to close again. It seemed like hours until Hermione was convinced that he was asleep.

Gradually she stood up; her knees were becoming cramped from kneeling on the floor for so long. She stretched and looked over to his mantelpiece to check the clock, which stood beside a shallow dish of Floo powder. Her eyes widened. Four in the morning. 

Hermione glanced down at his fireplace, the flames of which were long dead. She quickly lit it with her wand and then turned her attention back to the sleeping man on the couch. She worried over whether the fire would be enough, but there wasn't any blanket in the room to give him. Finally, she took off her cloak and Transfigured it into one. Green, naturally, she thought, and was surprised to feel a tiny smile creep onto her face. 

Hermione draped it gently over him and then absently nodded to herself, as if tucking a small child into bed. It would do.

With a fleeting glance back at Snape, Hermione crossed to the fireplace and took a small handful of Floo powder. She threw it into the fire and immediately stepped into the bright flames.

"Gryffindor Common Room."

When she arrived in the Gryffindor fireplace, she stepped out in a hurry, shivering and dusting the soot from her pyjamas. On the way up to the dormitory, Hermione stifled a yawn. The extra sleep would be appreciated now, she thought as she climbed into bed.

Though she began to doze minutes later, settled comfortably between the sheets, her dreams were filled with the same image of a dark man collapsing to the ground in pain. She awoke a few hours later to the sound of maniacal laughter in her head and shot up in bed, blinking the sleep away and trying to make sense of the night before.

Severus stretched and then winced at his stiff joints. Abruptly, he realised he had been sleeping on the sofa and turned over, only to fall heavily to the stone below, a blanket falling over his head. Swearing under his breath and shaking it off, he got to his feet, unsteadily somnolent.

It only took a few moments for the events of last night to catch up with him. He ran what he remembered through in his head; Apparating to Hogsmeade, making his way into the castle, down into the dungeons, collapsing…he stopped. What then?

He could hazily recall just reaching his office but everything after that was blank. He thought carefully for a moment. Had he recovered consciousness sometime after and managed to stumble inside?

Severus shook his head. He'd remember, he always had before. Suddenly, his eyes travelled down to the offending material he was still holding. A blanket. He didn't have any like these…and if he'd had the strength to conjure one, he'd have had the strength to get into bed, surely.

He looked at his arm and turned it slightly. Last night it had been broken, badly injured. Now it was fine. Better, in fact. The bruising he'd been subject to the afternoon before from smacking his arm on a desk after lunging to stop a third year's volatile cauldron from tipping over, had mostly gone.

Something occurred to him. Severus walked through into his office and through open the doors of his private potions cupboard. The one he'd brewed specially to alleviate the effects of the Cruciatus was gone. He looked back into the living room, noticing for the first time the empty bottle on the table.

He growled. Something had happened last night and he'd obviously not been privy to it. Someone had tended to him and left him asleep on the couch.

Severus's lip curled. Most likely Dumbledore. The interfering old man had probably been waiting up all night so that he could act the saviour again. He never seemed to realise that if Severus's disloyalty could slip past the Dark Lord's notice time and time again, he could easily handle a little pain when he returned. 

He exhaled loudly in displeasure and headed for the bathroom, wishing that for once, everyone would just leave him alone. He'd got himself into this mess to start with and he would rather clean it up by himself.

**A/N: **This is a plot bunny I was itching to write, and probably one of my longest first chapters, though I'm being quite naughty by straying from my fics that need attention. I do intend to continue, but don't expect the updates to be frequent on this one as I will be concentrating on the others. Tell me what you reckon- interesting or no? For once, I have the whole plot worked out already and I'm planning on all the chapters to be this approximate length.

**DistinctVagueness**


	2. Chapter Two

**Losing Sleep**

**By DistinctVagueness**

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**Chapter 2**

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Hermione yawned loudly as she pulled her Potions textbook from her bag and set it upon the desk.

"Tired?" asked Ron from her right. Hermione nodded and stifled another one behind her hand. Tired wasn't the word. She felt drained and would have dearly loved to return to her warm bed. On the other hand, she had to be in Potions class today for reasons she didn't know whether she should disclose to her best friends.

She wondered whether Snape would be teaching this morning. Probably not, she decided; no matter what she had done for him the night before, he'd most likely still be in an awful state and unable to teach. She could just see him limping to bed right about now and wincing in pain as he pulled back the covers. Thus, she was surprised when the door at the back of the room was flung open and he swept into the classroom, his mood looking black as he passed her desk, looking perfectly healthy. (Within reason, anyway.)

The class fell silent, their eyes dropping to the tabletops as he whirled around and gazed at them all, his eyes dark and scrutinizing. Nobody dared move. Irritating him during one of his most foul moods was like cursing at a Hippogriff. Finally, after long, stretched seconds, Snape raised one hand, lighting an array of candles along one wall. The light flickered brightly, but the darkness was still painfully apparent.

When he spoke, it was slow, even and commanding.

"Turn to page…three hundred and ninety four."

Hermione stopped Harry's hand before he poured the leech juice into the bubbling cauldron.

"No!" she whispered urgently, taking a glance at the front desk. Snape was staring at the pages of some Potions text mutinously. He flipped a page with a disgusted look, shaking his head at the contents. "It has to be diluted- otherwise you'll have made the base for a Banishing Brew."

"Oh," Harry placed the bottle back onto the table and then glanced at his book, confusion written upon his face. Hermione shook her head in exasperation.

"Harry, I saw you make this potion perfectly last year. What's the problem?"

The boy standing next to her shrugged absently and turned the page. "Oh I see…I should have been making the Deflating Draught…"

Hermione glanced at Ron who was watching his best friend in concern. They shared a glance before she pointed Harry to the right directions. He got to work on adjusting his own potion right away, but the way he went about it was odd. Mechanical, autonomous. As if he had done it all before. Which he had, Hermione reminded herself, but that wasn't the point. There was no archetypal frown, his eyes didn't screw up slightly when he took a measurement and he didn't push his glasses up once. She bit her lip and stirred her potion thoughtfully for the last time, widdershins, for twenty rotations. The changes in Harry hadn't been abrupt. It was just after Christmas that she'd noticed him become quieter, his green eyes losing their shine, turning dull.

It was now the end of February and Harry was growing more distant. Flushed cheeks and wind-ruffled hair accompanied the only true happiness that shone in his face during a game of Quidditch. Hermione would feel a pang as he returned to the Tower, his face silenced, and ask Ron for a fruitless game of Wizards' Chess.

She had no doubt over what it was- she didn't think anyone could. It was seventh year, the year they'd all assumed was to be Voldemort's most potent- and final- strike against The-Boy-Who-Lived. They knew the Prophecy. They knew that 'neither can live while the other survives.' What it implied didn't bear thinking about. Harry would kill Voldemort or die trying. Literally. Hermione closed her eyes for a minute before removing her long handled spoon and placing it upon the desktop.

Her mind turned to Snape who stood on the other side of the classroom, nodding in approval at Draco's potion. Typical. Ferret boy could make the simplest of potions and praise would be showered down upon him. If Hermione discovered that she could brew an Elixir of Life, there would only be a raised eyebrow and a 'is that the best you can do, Miss Granger?"

Hermione stopped herself from thinking any more about Draco. He wasn't incompetent at Potions, far from it. She was only just above him in marks, a place she took great pride in owning. He didn't exactly deserve her contempt either lately. The last year had been relatively empty of arguments incited by him, scathing glares and derisive comments, featuring his favourite endearment, 'Mudblood.'

In fact it was rather unsettling. Ron and Harry suspected that the 'junior Death Eater' had something up his sleeve but Hermione didn't know whether she bought into that theory or not. It was too easy a stereotype for her to accept.

Hermione's attention jumped abruptly when she realised Snape was hovering along their line of desks.  He stopped to examine Ron's bright yellow attempt.

"Adequate, Mr Weasley, but just barely. The colour should be paler and the viscous texture leaves a lot to be desired."

Hermione frowned. She'd checked on Ron's potion beforehand and acclaimed it as textbook standard.

"Mr Potter…if you need to be reminded of what you are making every five minutes, do not even attempt a potion at all."

Then he stopped at her desk, studying her cauldron with greater attention than anyone else. "How many stirs have you given this?"

"Twenty, Professor."

"Not good enough. You should give it ten more and don't use the spoon as if you are simply stirring soup this time if you please, Miss Granger."

Hermione gritted her teeth. The cheek. She was never anything but careful when mixing potions and she knew perfectly well that she'd done it correctly. She looked up at him as he folded his arms expectantly.

It was as if last night had never happened. Did he even realise that anyone could have happened upon him, unconscious on the dungeon stones, never mind Dumbledore? She'd gone against her gut feeling and obeyed him when he asked her not to fetch anyone. Snape was obviously a passable bill of health today, unlike last night, and she knew that was mostly due to her on the spot care. He was in debt for her conference, but it wasn't a favour he'd be paying back anytime soon. Typical. She could have saved him from the brink of death and he wouldn't bat an eyelid. Insufferable Slytherin, she thought in irritance. 

"No matter how attractive you may find me, Miss Granger, I'd rather you focus all your attention on your problematic potion than my face."

Hermione flushed angrily at his mock assumption and brought her eyes down to earth abruptly. There were snickers from the Slytherin side of the room and glares thrown across to them by the Gryffindors.

"Didn't know you had a thing for our House, Mudblood," hissed Pansy Parkinson when Snape turned his back and headed towards his desk. "I saw you staring at Draco before."

Hermione stared at her in aversion while Ron answered back for her. "Unlike you, Parkinson, she can do better than the Greasy Git or Ferret-Features, and everyone knows it!"

"Silence!" Snape must have overheard the 'greasy' comment for he was gazing at Ron malevolently. "Five points from Gryffindor for your lack of respect to both the Head Boy and myself. Now get back to work!"

And they did. The remainder of the lesson was conducted in silence while Snape loomed over them like the bat he was. He could no longer find fault with Hermione's finished work, however, and as he turned his wrath upon Neville, she smiled secretly to herself.

"What in Merlin's name is this supposed to be?" She glanced behind her. Snape was holding a spoonful of Neville's potion, which steadily dripped glutinously back into the cauldron. It was sickly ochre in colour and was giving off a rather odious vapour.

Neville swallowed and Hermione felt a dash of impatience. After being accepted into Snape's N.E.W.T Potions class (with much protest from the aforementioned), Neville had begun to pull himself together and could be trusted to produce fairly good and original work. In any other subject he would now speak up in class and volunteer his opinion, but Snape still had the unbroken ability to make this new Neville melt back into the terrified first year he once was.

"It's a Growth Accelerator, sir."

"I can see that, Longbottom. But tell me, what colour should Growth Accelerators be?"

"Orangey-red, sir, but-"

"And is _this _'orangey-red', Longbottom?" 

"No, but I-"

"Enough said. This is fifth year work. _Evanesco."_

Neville stared in horror as his potion disappeared. Hermione bit down on her lip but couldn't resist.

"Sir, Neville's been adapting the Growth Accelerator so that it nourishes the roots and leaves of plants, unlike the original potion. Professor Sprout has tested it so far and she said that-"

Snape suddenly whirled around. "Quiet, you silly little girl. When I want your opinion, I'll ask of it and I rather suspect I'd have to be intoxicated or mentally unstable to do so. Understand?"

Hermione didn't answer, the effort to keep her mouth shut took up all of her energy.

"Ten more points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn. This lesson is finished," he snarled in the direction of the whole class this time. He gesticulated with his wand and all substances within their cauldrons vanished. Without saying anything more he strode to the back of the classroom, his gait something to contend with and slammed his office door behind him.

After a quick lunch, Hermione strode into her room, her bag sailing before her and narrowly missing the fire that had just been lit inside the grate. Crookshanks let out a lazy mew of protest as she threw herself on the bed beside him. She let out a noise of frustration.

"I really don't care about a 'thank you' or 'cheers for not letting me freeze to death on the dungeon floor' but hasn't the man ever heard of civility? I ease his bloody suffering and he acts like I'm done him some injustice…no, worse, he acts as if I did nothing! Does he enjoy pain? Would he prefer to have a far more painful injury and die alone somewhere because no-one is interested in helping him?"

She thought about that for a second, forgetting her ranting which was going off on a rather diverse tangent.

"Maybe he wants to die." Her anger swiftly disappeared and she felt merely curious. "His life only seems to consist of teaching us, which he plainly abhors, and going between V-Voldemort and Dumbledore like a yo-yo. What else has he got to exist for?"

Hermione knew a little about his work for the Order was quite curious about it. Over the summer, when she stayed at Grimmauld Place for a few weeks, she'd seen him pop in for meetings or to pass a message on to another members. He'd always leave straight after, Mrs. Weasley's offers of a hot meal seemingly not appealing to him in the slightest.

There had been one amusing incident in which he turned up the sporting a dried bloody gash across one cheek. He'd spoken of a 'Revel', whatever that was, told Ron's dad to give a message to Shacklebolt and turned to the door to find Molly Weasley blocking the way, insisting that she could heal the wound 'the easy way or the hard way'. Hexing was implied. His lip curled as he grudgingly allowed her to perform a few charms and tell him that he was 'just like my Ron, at times, you silly man'.

Needless to say, after that, they received most of his news via Dumbledore.

She realised that Snape probably wasn't suicidal right now. He seemed like a man on a mission, from what they had overheard of meetings.  He would place himself in ridiculous danger so that the Order could have a little knowledge of Voldemort's plans, over and over again. Snape had been a Death-Eater once. Perhaps he was fighting for his freedom, for absolution of his past deeds.

Hermione wondered if he would leave Hogwarts if the Order destroyed Voldemort once and for all.

"Why would he need to stay?" she wondered aloud.

"Is this a private conversation or can anyone join in?"

Hermione started at Ginny's voice and then smiled at the redhead who was looking amused. She moved over on the bed so she could sit down.

"Who's he and where doesn't he need to stay?" she asked in her usual forthright manner.

"It's not important," Hermione told her quickly, brushing the question aside.

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yes…why wouldn't I be?"

The youngest Weasley shrugged. "I don't know…you just looked sort of pissed off all through lunch. I followed you up to see if you were alright."

Hermione inhaled loudly. "Just Potions."

Ginny nodded. "Snape up to his old tricks again? You know you're the best student he's had in years. It's easier for him to make a big deal of something minute than to admit it."

Hermione snorted but then covered it.

Ginny frowned. "You're sure it is just Snape?"

Hermione smiled. "Yeah. It doesn't bother me so much now, though."

The redhead returned the smile. "Neville looked annoyed too. It was pretty mean of Snape to vanish his potion. He's talking about that for weeks, and Professor Sprout has been raving to my class about how healthy her honking daffodils have been since he treated them."

Hermione was vaguely listening to her friend.

"Ginny…do you ever think about what might happen if V-Voldemort- oh, Ginny! - If _Voldemort_ discovers what Snape's really up to?"

Ginny looked puzzled at her friend's unexpected question. "Erm…not really. But I suppose, now you say…he'd kill him wouldn't he? Obviously."

"Well, yes. But I was just wondering whether Snape…whether he would really care in the end?"

Her friend gazed at her thoughtfully. "You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you? Why are you so concerned about Snape?"

"No, only now," Hermione replied in reply to her first question. "It's just…"

"Just what?"

Hermione bit her lip and went to close the dormitory door. "I'm going to tell you something, but you can't tell anyone else, especially not Harry or Ron, because I don't know whether I should tell anyone in the first place."

"Okay…shoot," said Ginny in curiosity. Hermione shot her a narrowed look. "Alright, cross my heart, hope to die, etcetera. What is it?"

The Head Girl hesitated. "I couldn't sleep last night…I ended up going for a walk."

Ginny raised her eyebrow. "Wow, that would be a good secret…if you weren't already allowed to do that now…"

"No…just let me finish. I was walking along to the entrance hall and I saw someone…"

The girl facing her started to grin. "Ooh, a secret rendezvous-"

"_No_…it was Professor Snape."

Ginny giggled at her possible mistake and stopped at the seriousness painted clearly on Hermione's face.

"He wasn't exactly coming home from The Hogs Head or something, Gin."

"Oh…" Ginny's face began to mirror Hermione's own. "He'd been to V-V-Voldemort," she finished nervously.

The brunette nodded. "He was in a bad state. Broken arm and limping, Athena knows what else. It looked like the Cruciatus had been one of the party games."

Ginny could tell there was more. "Did you go to Dumbledore, or McGonagall?"

"No…he collapsed outside his office…I did what I could to help him but he wouldn't let me find Dumbledore," she shook her head, remembering. "He looked desperate for me not to."

Ginny was confused. "Wouldn't he be better off?"

"Well, I thought so…but I've been thinking about it today. This can't be the first time he's come back to Hogwarts like this. He was a Death-Eater long before he became a spy for the Order, Gin. He's taken care of it himself before…he must dislike anyone trying to take over that responsibility. Especially Dumbledore. The Headmaster means well, I suppose, but you have to admit he's a little interfering.

"My theory is Snape relishes that small piece of control he has over his life. It's easier to keep it than to hand it over to someone else."

"Did he say something along those lines during Potions?" asked Ginny.

Hermione shook her head. "No…he acted the same as usual. There seemed to be nothing wrong with him except the fact that he needs a serious personality transplant."

Ginny offered a wry smile. "Pushing aside the serious issue here, maybe he just can't handle the fact that a Gryffindor Head Girl saved him from giving one of his first years an unpleasant surprise in the morning?"

Hermione laughed. "Maybe," she answered. She looked at her watch. "I have Transfiguration in five minutes. See you at dinner?"

The redhead nodded. "And maybe you should ask him."

"Ask him what?"

"If he really is ashamed that you helped him…or if he's simply an egotistical, housist bastard." She grinned and then went to the door.

"See you later, Hermione."

**A/N: **Wow, thank you for the flood of reviews. You're all lovely and got me to write a chapter more quickly than I initially intended. I'm starting to enjoy this plot bunny.

**Emily- **I think you may have misread part of the last chapter. Snape Apparated to Hogsmeade, not Hogwarts, which is perfectly acceptable according to Hogwarts: A History. Thanks for your review!

**WinterSolstice- **I'm so glad you stopped by. I tried e-mailing you, but hotmail returned it twice. *Mumbles incoherently* My question to you was if you are planning on updating **In Too Deep** once you have some spare time? You know how much I love it from my reviews. (i.e. anyone reading this- go check it out!)

**Cliffe- **Your first SS/HG? Muaha. We'll soon have you converted, mark my words. I remember the dark days when I believed solely in Hermione and Ron…*cough* Harry/Snape ain't my cup of tea, but everyone is entitled to their preferences, so I say go for it. Thanks for reviewing.

Merry the Psychotic Coconut- I already e-mailed you, as you know, but thanks again for reviewing, and understanding about the plot bunnies. 

Gina-d- I promise I'll try. I really want to finish it and put in my planned ending.

DistinctVagueness 


	3. Chapter Three

**Losing Sleep**

**By DistinctVagueness**

****

**Chapter 3**

Hermione drummed her quill in an impatient rhythm against the desk as she flicked through her fifth year Transfiguration notes. She frowned. She had been sure there was something here about facial characteristics but on a second check, it appeared she had left them in the dormitory. Annoyed with herself for leaving such important lesson notes (she'd scribbled McGonagall's every word down on the subject) in the tower, she got up and went over to the bookshelves.

She began to run a finger along the spines and murmured to herself as she did so, trying to find the right book. Finally she came to the book that would help her, pulling it out and finding the right page. Hermione brought it to the desk and after checking Madame Pince was nowhere to be seen, passed a piece of blank parchment over the page, using her wand to whisper _'exemplaris'. _Slowly text appeared, accompanied by a picture of the various stages of kitten-into-mouse. She smiled and put the book back, holding a perfect copy of the page. Studying over for the night, she tucked it between her pages of notes and left the library.

Hermione felt satisfied with herself; it was only February and she was soaring ahead of her revision plan. In a week or so, she'd start revising sixth year easily.

Hermione glanced at her watch and hurried her steps. She had five minutes until she was due to start that night's corridor duty. She reached the portrait hole soon enough and climbed in quickly.

Ron and Harry were sitting by the fire, feigning interest as Lavender read their horoscopes.

"…Sorrow is in store for you this week as Mars--oh, Hermione…" Lavender acknowledged her rather neutrally. Hermione suspected it was to do with an overloud comment she'd made to Ginny about Divination being for fluff-brained witches the other day.

Hermione gave her a small smile before turning to Ron and Harry. "I'm just going to leave my stuff here while I go on duty- will you make sure nobody moves them?"

Ron nodded but rolled his eyes at the stack of papers Hermione placed on the table.

"See you later."

Hermione rushed out of the portrait hole and down towards the entrance hall. She straightened her robes and made sure her hair was in some sort of order as she went down the stairs.

Draco was waiting for her.

"Granger," he said, coolly. His platinum hair was slicked back neatly and his blue eyes passed over her noncommittally, taking in her hasty arrival.

"Malfoy," she answered, keeping her tone level. His expression remained.

"I thought we'd head down to the dungeons first. If you want to check around the Potions classroom, I'm just going to have a word with Snape."

"Why?" she asked, curiosity aroused.

"Must you ask questions, Granger?" Draco started walking towards the dungeons. Hermione hesitated and then followed him down the steps.

They walked slowly in silence, listening for footsteps or telltale giggles. There was many a broom cupboard down here and it was rare that they weren't made useful.

Hermione pulled her thin robes around her shoulders as the wintry air of the dungeons crept up on her. She glanced over to Draco and assumed he must be used to the temperature. He was staring ahead, his eyes scanning the darkness. She noticed now just now tall he was. Not broad, but not wiry like Harry was. He was sturdily built and lean, with chiselled cheekbones and a colourless countenance.

Awkwardly, Hermione made an attempt at conversation.

"Have you started studying for the N.E.W.T's yet?" She knew it sounded feeble the second the words left her mouth but it seemed as good as anything else to say. What else was there? _Hey Draco, visited your father in Azkaban lately?_

He turned to her, his pallid features shining eerily in the candlelight. At first he looked suspicious. Then he answered.

"No."

Hermione resisted the urge to groan. She'd taken the initiative, the least he could do was respond a little more encouragingly.

"The exams are months off."

Hermione glanced up at him. He was looking at her with one eyebrow raised.

"You sound like Ron," she told him without thinking. Draco stopped and practically stared at her. Then he resumed walking.

"Never compare me to a Weasley again, Granger."

Hermione shook her head. "There's been animosity between you two since we started here. I don't understand it now- lately you've been so…" she sighed. "What do you really have against him?"

Draco didn't answer her.

"Fine," she answered. "Look, there's Professor Snape's office. I'll meet you back here in ten minutes."

Draco nodded curtly.

"And for future reference? My name isn't 'Granger'. I grant it's an improvement on what you used to call me, but I generally go by Hermione."

The Slytherin didn't say a word but his expression didn't look mocking as it might have done in the past. It was observant, even curious.

"I won't be long." He knocked on Snape's door. There was an 'Enter!' and Draco stepped inside. Hermione watched the closed door for a few seconds before wandering off down the corridor.

-

"Good evening, sir."

Snape looked up from his desk. "What's so good about it, Mr Malfoy?"

"Point taken." Draco looked his godfather up and down critically. "I spoke to my father this morning. He told me there was…a gathering last night."

"I wouldn't mourn not receiving an invitation if I were you," answered Snape dryly. He stood up to slide the book he had been reading back into his bookcase.

"He also told me the Dark Lord wasn't particularly happy with you."

"Did he now?"

"Severus-"

_"-Professor Snape," _broke in the older Slytherin with a warning glance before pulling some papers from a drawer.

"_Professor Snape, _how bad was it?"

Snape stopped moving about the room and turned to face his godson.

"I sincerely hope this war is won before you are required to join me in the Dark Lord's clutches. Tell me, did your father say anything else?"

Draco nodded. Snape saw his jaw clench slightly. "He told me that I must declare my allegiance to the Dark Lord by the time I leave Hogwarts. He accepts that I cannot attend the usual gatherings, or be branded yet, but he says I will be called before him soon, within a few months."

Snape sat back down and bridged his hands thoughtfully. "Then you need to be prepared. You won't be given another warning. The Dark Lord punished me for my lack of information regarding Dumbledore last night. Your father will be killed if they discover his son's lack of faith."

"Hasn't been the first time I've felt my father would shove me down the river to save his own neck." Draco gave a short, forced laugh.

His Head of House closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "Tell me- what has our world come to? When fathers can sentence their sons to a life of cruelty, to deceit...to pain." Snape regarded his godson seriously. "You must tell me when Lucius contacts you, or anyone else for that matter. Don't discuss this with Crabbe or Goyle- you'll end up sorely regretting it. Keep in line, act yourself. Promise me you will, Draco."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not an idiot. I'm not about to shout this from the rooftops."

"Draco." The caveat in Snape's black eyes was grim. The message was clear. They were in this together now. If Draco slipped up, he was on his own. The younger Slytherin knew full well that Snape was trying to fulfil some mission, and though he also knew his godfather cared about his safety, he realised there was something bigger than him at stake.

"I swear."

Snape scrutinised him briefly and then seemed to relax. "You are on duty tonight aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Then go and do your job." Snape returned to his desk, his back turned to Draco.

"Goodnight sir."

-

Draco had barely stepped out of the office when he caught sight of Hermione leaning against the opposite wall, hardly recognisable in the darkness.

"How long have you been waiting?" he asked, his hackles immediately up.

"Five minutes or so," she answered, standing up straight

"You said you'd be ten," he said staring hard at her.

Hermione frowned. What was he so worried about? "I checked the dungeons and everything's fine. I didn't see the point in dawdling when I didn't need to."

Draco was still watching her suspiciously and she began to feel a little unnerved. What had made him so apprehensive?

"I think we should check the grounds and the Quidditch pitch. There's been a few people out there this week and Hagrid is away so he can't keep an eye out." She avoided his searching blue eyes warily.

"Let's go."

-

As they strolled across the path by the lake, Hermione glanced across the surface as a large tentacle emerged. She had hoped perhaps to catch a glimpse of Professor Snape, thinking there was a chance that he had been putting on a brave front in class. She couldn't explain it, but since she'd seen him the night before, the undisputable jeopardy he was constantly in had jolted her. Had there been worse injuries? Had he been close to death? Was there anyone who cared?

Of course there was, she admonished herself. She'd seen the quiet exchanges between the Headmaster and Snape at Grimmauld Place, unmistakeable concern written plainly in Dumbledore's eyes and Snape pushing it away without even speaking.

Ron's parents always had a supportive word for him as well. They admitted they didn't see eye to eye with the sullen Professor, but they couldn't make him any more welcome if he arrived at the Order or the Burrow. Molly Weasley never failed to offer him a place at the dinner table, even though he rudely reclined each time. Both she and Arthur quickly reproved their children if a bad word was said about him.

_"He's done a great deal for you and this Order, most that you will never know about, and until you can properly understand that, I will not hear another unkind word about him."_

Mrs. Weasley was right. Hermione didn't know all Snape had done and after seeing him in such a way, she wasn't sure that she wanted to

-

Draco glanced around the Quidditch pitch, looking carefully for any signs of students out when they shouldn't be. The vast stadium was blissfully peaceful, a slight breeze blowing through the grass. A perfect night for flight, he thought. He closed his eyes for a second at the notion of soaring above the stands, executing perfect twists and turns beneath the sparse clouds, the glowing orb peeking through them.

If anyone was asked what Draco Malfoy's dream career would be, there was bound to be numerous answers, mostly relating to the Dark Arts and such.

He knew it was a typical occupational dream of many young wizards, but Draco Malfoy wanted to fly. He didn't care if it was Quidditch or any other sport, art, activity, anything.

If he ever escaped from this stifling world of prejudice, death and fear, (in other words, his father) Draco Malfoy was going to leap on his broomstick and fly far away. Not to 'never return', he had too many scores to settle for that, but to get away from it all. To attempt to experience some semblance of what it was to be free. Maybe even happy.

The Head Girl strolled slowly and silently beside him, her bushy hair blowing slightly in the wind. Tonight had been odd. She had made an attempt at conversation that was bound to fail before it started, but then given up. Unlike before, when she had continued until they said goodnight. Her dark eyes were occupied tonight, thoughtful.

It was strange, but Draco had never before this year considered that she might make a good companion for this job. When he'd been made Head Boy, he'd accepted that he had to be civil- what point was there rebelling against his father's wishes if he did otherwise? –and cease his old comments and nicknames.

In the first month of seventh year, he'd been confronted by Potter and Weasley who attempted to be intimidating and told his in clear terms that if he said an unkind word to Hermione, they'd 'deal with him'.

So he'd made an attempt and was surprised to find that it was relatively easy. Hermione had been polite from the start, seemingly forgetting the past six years. Draco suspected she'd made some sort of promise with herself too. How like Granger. No, he corrected himself mentally. How like…Hermione.

The name sounded strange in his head.

"Yes?" asked the girl at his side, looking startled.

Apparently it sounded strange from his tongue also.

"Er…nothing." _Well, that was suave._

Hermione stopped and looked at him thoughtfully. "Are you sure?" she asked.

Draco came to a halt, and looked back at her, feeling slightly taken aback. Putting aside her courteousness, he'd never expected her to sound like she actually cared.

"You asked me to call you Hermione."

She raised her eyebrows. "Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"I find it less offensive than Mudblood," she offered wryly. As he started walking again, she reached out and grabbed his arm. Draco turned quickly and wrenched his arm from her grasp.

"Look," she said looking pained. "I don't see any reason we should refer to each other by our surnames. You're perfectly welcome to call me 'Granger' if you're uncomfortable with 'Hermione', but I would prefer it."

The Gryffindor shrugged at his non-reply. "Just a suggestion." She began to walk on, looking resigned.

"Then you must call me by my name also," he called from behind her. "Hermione."

As she turned, Draco was bestowed upon with something he had never received from her before.

A smile.

-

As Hermione reached the verge of wakefulness, she kicked off the covers, feeling hot and uncomfortable in her old flannel pyjamas. Quickly, the cold air of the dormitory hit her and she sat up, yawning widely. Slowly she opened her eyes and blinked at the time displayed on her little alarm clock. Five thirty.

She'd had a different one last year, a specially charmed one but Parvati had threatened to throw both it and her out of the window if its yelling at five in the morning disturbed her dreams again. The poor, disillusioned alarm clock had no qualms about rising at dawn. Its owner's roommates however, voiced their displeasure at full volume. Now she had a sensible, Muggle-style alarm clock and she had to agree it was infinitely preferable.

She pulled herself out of bed and padded down to the girls' bathroom. After a swift shower, taming her hair and pulling on her school robes, Hermione headed downstairs to the vacant common room.

The fire had long since burnt out and the charred remains were left in the grate, sure to be replaced by blazing flames after dinner. She went to sit down, and took her notes from where she'd left them the night before and forgotten.

It became evident within five minutes of what had woken her up. The way Draco had been the night before was still lingering in her mind. If there was one person who she knew so little about, there was easily another. Though she didn't like to admit it, she was concerned for Professor Snape. She hadn't told a soul except Ginny, of course, but the guilt had started to creep in. If something more serious had befallen Snape and she had not told anyone… Hermione bit her lip. She had to know if he was truly all right or not, despite what quandaries she had about approaching the situation.

Decided, Hermione nodded absently to herself. She would visit Professor Snape tonight.

* * *

**A/N: **The amount of reviews I've received for just two chapters has really thrown me. It means more than you know that you spent the time to tell me your thoughts. Thank you.

**Strega-in-progress- **Oh, he will remember, he will just have to be 'reminded'. I like you name by the way- I'm assuming you've read **Pawn To Queen? **Thanks for reviewing.

**Isobel L- **You found it hilarious? Smiles I've never been found hilarious before. Thank you!

**Lizard Queen 1**- Yes, that's exactly how I like him. Glad you liked Ginny in that chapter. Thanks for reviewing.

**M'cha Araem- **Glad you like my penname : ) Grammatically correct? Nah. I just like being masochistic with my user names. Amazing story? Eek. I'll try, I promise you. Thanks for your review.

**Note: **This has also been posted on Lordandladysnape.net, a fantastic Hermione/Severus library, which quality checks fics, so you can check it out there instead if you wish to.

**DistinctVagueness**


	4. Chapter Four

**Losing Sleep**

**By DistinctVagueness**

****

**Chapter 4**

Snape flounced into his office, his door slamming noisily behind him. His black robes were thrown askew over the nearest chair and the glass-fronted cupboard beside his desk was thrown open, allowing him to remove a glass and a crystal decanter containing an amber-coloured liquid. He shot sparks from his wand to light the fire, which shot up, licking the bricks around it fierily.

Snape settled into his desk chair, the now full glass warming between his hands.

"Bloody sixth years," he mumbled to himself before taking a long sip of the whiskey. It slipped down his throat easily and led a warm trail down into his stomach. "'_It wasn't me, sir.' _ Like hell it wasn't, Quigley. _Wasn't me._ Well, how did the Enlarging Potion get _there_, I ask you! If I could just-"

"Having a relaxing evening, Severus?"

Snape just stopped himself from starting at the sudden greeting. LeStrange's head was bobbing around in the flames, one dark eyebrow raised in amusement.

The Potions Master glared at his visitor. "Now isn't the time, Bellatrix. Bugger off." He slammed his suddenly empty glass down on the table and began to shuffle about with some essays from his second year class, completely ignoring the presence of his friend.

"I'm afraid it's going to have to be the time, Severus. I need to speak with you."

Severus slowly turned his head to look at Bellatrix. He put the papers down with a sigh and regarded him wearily. "What is it?"

"Draco spoke with his father this morning."

"So I heard."

"The Dark Lord has expressed a wish to see him branded as soon as possible. He has allowed time until Draco leaves school, but if he grows impatient…Severus, Draco _must_ show willing if he is called before then."

"And if he doesn't?" asked Severus calmly, his features perfectly composed.

"Lucius will become another Death-Eater to break out of that gaol, if only to get to his son faster than the Dark Lord will. That boy has only one fate, we all _know_ he is committed to it but his _nerves_" Bellatrix's voice became horribly mocking and Severus tried not to wince at it grating on his skin "won't exactly place him in a favourable light."

Severus regarded Bellatrix with narrowed eyes. "Why are you telling me all this? Hasn't Lucius already addressed Draco?"

"Because, my dear head of Slytherin," Bellatrix smiled wickedly, the reflection of the flames dancing in her eyes. "You are the closest person to him right now. He hardly talks to Goyle or Nott anymore, not that that's a bad thing mind you, and he only sees his father every few weeks."

Severus nodded grimly. "And, of course, the Dark Lord is putting this upon me too, isn't he?"

The aversion of her dark eyes, with their heavy lashes, confirmed his suspicion.

"I'll do what I can," he said.

Bellatrix watched him, and suddenly, it wasn't the Death-Eater front she always presented, but the person underneath staring back at him. She looked around quickly.

"Make sure you do."

She disappeared and the flames roared back in place of her head. Severus sank back heavily into his chair, closing his eyes.

There was a cautious knock at the door. Severus didn't move, hoping fervently whoever it was would just give up. No such luck. There came another knock, louder and more insistent this time. He gritted his teeth.

"What do you want?" His voice rose in annoyance.

The door opened slowly and a face appeared round the door. He groaned in annoyance at the trademark bush she called hair and a pair of wary brown eyes.

"What is it, Miss Granger? And close the door behind you."

Hermione bit her lip at the edge in his tone and hesitated, taking another step into the room. Snape had turned from her and was going through a stack of papers on his desk. She was glad for that, somehow. It was perhaps easier speaking to his back rather than his face.

"Spit it out. I haven't got all night. "

"I-well, that is-"

This had seemed easier when she rehearsed it for ten minutes outside his door, even after witnessing him storming into his office and slamming it before she had the chance to say anything.

Swiftly, Snape revolved round on his chair and looked impatiently at her.

"The only reason you could have come here tonight is to discuss your progress in Potions, Miss Granger. Therefore, I do not see why you are standing here, gaping like a fish and stuttering like some wretched first year. If this some pathetic teenage issue you haven't had the sense to discuss with McGonagall-"

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione corrected automatically and then stared at him in horror at her mistake. His already thin lips narrowed.

"Five points from Gryffindor for correcting a teacher, Miss Granger."

"I'm sorry, I…" Hermione's eyes suddenly fell upon the empty glass and the decanter beside it. He'd been drinking? That took her aback a little, but then she supposed that the teachers could hardly be expected to simply drink Earl Grey and pumpkin juice, especially in their own time. Still, she wondered…

"Well?" Snape looked like he was fully prepared to throw the Head Girl bodily from the room.

"I…" Hermione's mind went blank. Her preparation outside had gone completely to pot. The Potions Master with his black eyes boring into her in irritation didn't seem exactly approachable as his silent door had been. So she blurted out the first thing that came into her head.

"I need help with my Potions."

One eyebrow arched.

"I mean, that's to say, not with N.E.W.T's, but with…"

He didn't say anything but continued watching her as she told him an idea that she had banished from her own mind last year.

"Professor, I'm planning on studying Potions after Hogwarts and it would be much easier to do that if I had proof of additional experience than what I've learnt in your classes." Realising that could be taken as an insult, she continued hurriedly. "Not that I don't get enough experience from your class, of course, it's just that if I spent extra time on the subject…" She took a breath. "Sir, if possible, I would very much like to be your assistant."

She waited for the inevitable negative reply.

"Why do you think I need an assistant, Miss Granger?" The voice was alarmingly neutral this time, but she had a terrible feeling that whatever answer she gave, he'd have some retort which would make her wish the ground would open up and swallow her whole. As always.

"Well, for any extra work that's necessary, for example making simple potions that are required, or bottling ingredients. I think it might give you more time to concentrate on your own work, sir."

Severus studied her, feeling slightly confused, which he didn't like to admit. Was this girl, this Gryffindor offering up her spare time to do his chores? He thought for a moment. All she was seeking was a comment on her end of year report that would earn her a place in further education. He could simply give her hours of work in his storeroom a few nights a week, labelling jars and such. On the other hand, he would have to see the bushy-haired Know-It-All far more than he would like.

At his silence, Hermione reasoned that he would simply say no and tell her to get out, to get the awkwardness over with as soon as possible, she stood up.

"I'll go now then, sir."

His chair swivelled round again, turning his back to her. As she placed her hand on the doorknob, he spoke.

"I shall think about it."

-

Bellatrix cleared the wards with a word and strode into the building, letting the double doors slam loudly behind her. A newly branded member (Esketh was it?) nodded to her from his station outside the Dark Lord's quarters. She looked him up and down critically. He had an issue of the Daily Prophet in one hand and went back to reading it leisurely not noticing her steely gaze. His other hand scratched his balding head and then dropped back to his side. She shook her head in disbelief. What had happened to standards around here? When she had first been introduced as a Death-Eater, she had been miles from her master's inner circle. There had been no raids for her, or Mudbloods to play with. No, Bellatrix LeStrange had been reduced to scrubbing the blood from floors and taking messages. Her older cousin had always told her that if she were obedient and loyal to the Dark Lord's wishes, she would work her way up to the top eventually. Of course, he hadn't the metal to go much further than she, and now there wasn't even a gravestone that honoured his memory.

It had been a long eventually, but after a few years, she'd been allowed to go with her elders on a raid. There had been so much excitement, pain shrieking from houses in every direction, blood painting their robes and Bellatrix had loved every single delectable moment of it, culminating in her seducing a terrified Muggle and fastening him naked to his kitchen table with a particularly sharp knife.

She'd turned, admiring the crimson staining her fingers to see a pair of demonic eyes watching her. A smile had stretched those wicked, slight lips. The next day she'd been invited to a gathering. Those days of endless exertion were over and Bellatrix LeStrange would be feared. By fellow Death-Eaters and Mudbloods alike.

Just as it should be, she mused.

These thoughts angered her immensely to see this recent initiate to be treating the honour of guarding his master in such a languid fashion. She slowly pulled out her wand and drew it sharply upwards. The man dropped his newspaper, emitting a gasp, and was pulled to the wall, his neck and spine straining as he tried to resist.

"When I became a servant of our Lord," she hissed. "I was reduced to scrubbing floors to prove my honour but I did my work well and loved every minute of it because it was all for him. Do you even understand how precious the duty you've been given is? Yet you treat it so shamefully. You have no right to stand within a mile of him."

She took steps over to the terrified man who was struggling to breathe and brought her face so close to his own that they were almost touching. "You are nothing but a worthless slug and if I find you carrying out your allegiance in such a indolent manner again, I will step on you like such a creature myself."

She released the spell she'd been holding and he slumped to the floor, parched for air and clutching his throat. For an extra edge, she kicked him and then opened the door to her Master's rooms.

-

Draco scribbled absently on the edge of his parchment, his wandering mind unable to concentrate on the less than thrilling Transfiguration essay he'd been set.

His eyes flickered over to the fire roaring in the common room and for some reason, it made him nervous. It wasn't as though his father, or the Dark Lord for that matter (both amounted to the same amount of panic at the moment) was about to pop up there, but one of Lucius's friends easily could. And when they did…

Draco's hand moved of its own accord to his left arm. Underneath the dusky material of his robes, there was pale skin. If he were called, he'd have no choice but to be marked there, scarred for life. As if a string had been attached to his left arm, which the Dark Lord would yank on at will.

Of course, if he were branded with the Mark, he'd have to go for his second plan- playing spy for the Order and still betraying his father. It would be much harder than it had been for Snape, he knew. He'd seen it in the older Slytherin's eyes. Draco had a far bigger chance of being caught and he didn't have the experience to wriggle out of suspicion yet.

He desperately didn't want to end up like his shadowed godfather, though. Severus Snape was a broken man, through being pushed back and forward between Dumbledore and the Dark Lord, risking his life time and time again and only having one mission in life. When, or if, Draco corrected himself, Voldemort was destroyed, what would Snape have to live for?

He sighed. He honestly didn't want to think about it anymore and what it could mean to his future. Draco Malfoy was determined to be alive at the end of all this. Alive inside.

"Want one?" The lumbering form of Crabbe came toward him, a proffered Butterbeer in one hand. Draco felt slightly envious in that moment- his friend's life seemed so easy. Crabbe had a future as a Death-Eater, certainly but it wasn't expected of him until after school. Draco suspected the Dark Lord would only recruit him to keep it in the family, along with Goyle. The boy next to him took a long swig of his own drink happily and Draco knew that nothing else except getting to the bottom of that bottle was clouding his mind.

Draco shook his head. "No, thanks."

Crabbe shrugged his large shoulders. "So what did your dad say?" he asked loudly. Draco glared at him as a small first year glanced at them curiously. He picked up his book and parchment and left the common room for the dormitory downstairs. Crabbe looked slightly disappointed but stayed where he was, unscrewing the cap of his extra Butterbeer.

Draco shut the door of the dormitory with a bang and was glad to see he was alone in there. He sunk down on his mattress and rested his head in his hands.

Typically, the second he tried to relax, the dormitory door opened again and closed with a quiet click. He felt another weight beside him on the bed. Unwillingly, he looked up. Pansy.

The blonde gave him a smile. "What's wrong?"

Draco frowned at her. "Why should something be wrong?" he asked irritably.

"Because you just stormed out of the common room."

"It's nothing."

"You can tell me Draco. Is it your fa-"

"_Pansy. Go away,"_ Draco replied through gritted teeth.

"Are you sure you want me to go away?" Pansy asked. Draco felt a soft hand on his robes and turned slowly to her. She was gazing at him with lowered lashes and another one of her smiles. "Even if I can fix it…?"

The hand crept up to his cheek and she began to stroke it gently. Pansy closed her eyes and moved in. Draco jumped from the bed and moved away from her.

"No."

Pansy pouted. "Oh, Draco. You know you want to."

"No, I don't. I told you that after last week. What we did…Pansy, I said it couldn't happen again."

Pansy stood up, her face reddening and her eyes narrowed. "Why not? Don't say you didn't like it, Draco, I saw the look on your face. Is it Millicent? Is it?" She was glaring at him now and moved closer to him.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Pansy. I said I didn't want anything to do with _you_. I don't have any interest in Bulstrode."

"Then why else did you dump me?" It was as if she was daring him to say she wasn't good enough for him.

"Pansy…can you just go…"

The blonde put her hands on her hips. "No, not until you give me a reason."

Draco shrugged. "Suit yourself." He walked over to the door and shut it neatly behind him, trying not to grin at the noise of outrage he heard behind him.

He honestly hoped she'd leave him alone soon. They'd had something on and off since their fourth year, but in the sixth year, she'd made it plain she was only with him for one thing. Draco had found it strange that he'd actually wanted a relationship with her at one point. He'd given in last week in a moment of weakness and he cursed himself for it. It'd been a stupid thing to do. No doubt Pansy had been with Zabini the next day who seemed to have no problem with the girl's infidelity.

Refusing to make eye contact with anyone in the common room, Draco left and headed in the direction of the grounds and his broomstick.

**A/N:** Thank your for your reviews and I'm glad you kept reading. I'm really going to try updating on I Don't Want To Be Alone as soon as possible, but my computer has kicked off again so I'm finding it hard to get a lot of typing up done. Thanks for the patience.

On another note, lots of you are commenting on the likelihood of this being a HG/SS/DM love triangle before it becomes a solid SS/HG. It has crossed my mind, but I honestly don't know yet. I do know the ending however. You'll just have to wait and see.

**Wackoramaco87- **A godfather (or godmother) is someone who parents choose to look after their child in the event that they cannot. They're often a close friend or relative. For instance, I have a godfather who is one of my dad's friends and my godmother is my aunt. They are also there to be witnesses, or a sort, if a child is baptised. They make the same vows as the parents do. Wow, I actually picked up some knowledge in my R.E lessons. Thanks for the review.

**Captain Oblivious-** Gold ring? Me? Looks around nervously _My_ preciousss…cough Thanks for reviewing.

**Winter Solstice- **Thanks for stopping by again- I'm glad you like Draco. I thought he'd be a challenge at first but I've got into writing him now. Not a patch on your Snape though. Thanks for the review!

**Strega-in-progress- **Thanks for that lovely long review – sorry you took up space? I loved reading it. You were lucky to come across that one first- my first was _A Matter of Honour_ by McAmy and it firmly remains one of my favourites.

**DistinctVagueness**


	5. Chapter Five

**Losing Sleep**

**By DistinctVagueness**

****

**Chapter 5**

The next week passed swiftly. Hermione only departed from Gryffindor Tower twice in the later hours, other than her Head Girl duties. As she ventured near to the entrance hall, she would hesitate before getting closer to the stairs. Part of her knew she was being irrational- it was unlikely that Snape would end up in the same place in such a state twice in a week, but the lingering doubt in the back of her mind would hinder her steps before she hastened them, murmuring fractiously at herself when she found that she was quite alone.

She wondered whether he'd given any thought at all to allowing her to be his assistant. The moment she had left his office, dismay had flooded her features. She honestly hadn't meant to forward herself for the job like that, which would no doubt entail chivvying her around like an unpaid servant and taking delight in watching her perform menial jobs to make his easier. But after she'd thought about it for a while, it hadn't seemed like such a bad idea. She'd have an excuse to be in his lab after hours, thus being able to keep an eye out for any sudden disappearances or returns.

Hermione hadn't entirely been lying about pursuing a career in Potions. The subject, though she rarely admitted it, was her favourite, followed closely by Arithmancy. There was something to creation by trial and error, to watching in trepidation as a cauldron began to bubble and to bottling a successful test.

If she were civil and helpful at all times, there was the chance that she'd be allowed to help him in his more difficult work, and learn facts and techniques that were never revealed in Potions class.

Eventually, she came to the conclusion that it would allow her to keep an eye on him, thus making sure he came back from any Death-Eater gatherings in one piece. It felt odd, 'taking care' of him in that way, but she was strangely reassured.

It all depended on whether he agreed or not.

-

Severus strode into the classroom and slammed a pile of work onto the desk. He was five minutes late for the lesson and the seventh years had already seen his absence as an excuse to talk. They abruptly fell into silence at the abject scowl on his face.

He made a sharp gesture at the board with his wand. Instructions written in his spidery handwriting flooded the board, accompanied with a small, neat diagram.

"Do it. Now."

He sank down into his chair. He hated being late for his own lessons. On the other hand, it allowed him to squash the hope that no doubt crept into their hearts at the thought that he wasn't going to turn up at all. It was Dumbledore's fault, as usual. The old coot had started on about trying Duelling lessons for first years up, instead of just fifth to seventh years. That was all he needed. To spend his spare nights removing tails from tiny Gryffindors and trying in vain to stop shocked little Hufflepuffs from crying after being hit with Stinging Hexes.

Perhaps he was being harsh, but to be honest he didn't particularly care.

With a concealed sigh, he picked up one of the textbooks that littered the desk and began to scan through the pages, listing those that would be useful for lesson plans next week. Before engrossing himself properly, he glanced up at his class.

The majority of them were either reading the board or looking in their books for references. The room was void of their chatter, in the last year those who had decided to take N.E.W.T-standard Potions had became more ascetic, taking their lessons seriously.

A couple of Slytherins, he was pleased to note, had begun to find apparatus and ingredients. His eyes passed over to the other side of the room and rested on one particular Gryffindor. Of course. Miss Granger.

The girl had already set up her cauldron on a mild flame and was pulling small containers from her bag. He frowned and turned his head a little to get a better look. What was she doing?

It soon became apparent that Miss Granger was exceeding her usual standard of preparation. She was carefully removing ingredients from the tubs, which were ready for the potion.

He raised an eyebrow behind his book. Not many students cared about time efficiency in Potions, but he knew that if he demanded they prepare their ingredients before attending lessons, he'd have a lot of extra time to fit in what he now could not.

Severus remembered now what she'd asked him. It had escaped his mind though he had actually meant to devote at least five minutes in the week to his decision. He looked up again as the brunette screwed up her eyes and focused on tipping a small amount of liquid from a beaker into her cauldron.

He'd never had an 'assistant' before. He'd barely considered it, really and it wasn't as though students were queuing up to spend more time with him than strictly necessary. Would it be so bad, he wondered. Granger was more than adequate at the subject and as long as she was confined to the classroom and his storeroom, he supposed, her presence would be tolerable.

Yes, he decided. Miss Granger could have the job if she was willing.

-

As Hermione pushed the last of her books into her bulging bag, she glanced furtively up at the front desk. Snape staring at a piece of parchment looking decidedly more bored as his eyes perused the lines. She imagined him yawning and then bit back a smile. It was hard to imagine any other expression coming from those thin lips other than a scowl, or the patented lip curl.

The last week he had shown no indication that he knew of her existence at all. He'd swept past her in the corridors and barely blinked. She wondered if he'd forgotten her request. Great. That would make it even worse. It would be rather humiliating having to repeat her request. He'd probably also forgotten what she'd done for him that night, mortified so much at the fact that she'd had to patch him up, that he'd blocked it out.

Besides that, Hermione knew she might as well ask him now. There wasn't a better time, presuming of course, that there was ever a 'good' time to ask for something from him. She decided to dawdle a little until the rest of the class had filed out. As she pretended to find something at the bottom of her bag, Draco passed by her desk. They met eyes for a second and to her surprise, he gave her a solemn nod and then continued towards the door.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione jumped at the sudden baritone address from the front of the room and turned to see Professor Snape looking directly at her.

"Remain here for a moment before you leave, Miss Granger," he told her before following the lingering line of students with a critical eye as they left. With no reason to fruitlessly fumble around in her bag, Hermione fastened it and hoisted the weight onto her shoulder before pushing her chair underneath the desk and going to the front.

The door clicked shut behind the last girl to leave the classroom. Snape's eyes turned to the girl before him and he placed his quill on the desk and stood up. Hermione took a hesitant step backwards. He was so very tall when he was this close up and his soot-coloured robes only added to his imposing nature.

"I have considered your request, Miss Granger. Do you still wish to take on the responsibility?"

Hermione nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."

"Then I will allow you a trial period of one week to see if you are tolerable or not. Do you understand?"

Again, Hermione nodded. This was as good an acceptance as she was ever going to get she thought to herself, trying not to take much notice of his uninterested tone.

"I expect you at my office at seven o'clock. Do not be late," he added.

"I won't, sir."

"We'll see," he told her warningly. Hermione felt a slight chill tiptoeing along her spine and felt an overwhelming urge to break away from his steady charcoal gaze. When she did so, she thought she saw a corner of his mouth quirk ever so slightly, as if smirking at her unease.

He looked away from her then and sat down to continue with whatever it was he'd been writing before he'd summoned her to his desk. Hermione glanced diffidently at the door. Was this her cue to leave?

Snape raised his head to look at her. His jaw clenched slightly in annoyance. "What are you waiting for? Go!"

And go she did, closing the door quietly behind her. After taking a few steps down the darkened corridor, she smiled. That was the hard part over with.

-

Severus wrote _'Caedmon and Allegra Snape'_ on the envelope and quickly sealed it with a dash of hot wax. He put it to one side, hoping he'd remember to send it with Seth later. He hadn't written to his parents in a while and had thought now a good a time as any. It was just placing quill to paper, her thought, but it took a great deal of energy for him to relate his current state of affairs to them. Omitting a good portion of his time at Hogwarts involved the creation of a few lies here and there. This was mostly for his mother's benefit. His father, he knew, had suspicions that his past wasn't entirely behind him.

He got up and opened the door that led to his classroom. Miss Granger was standing at the side of the classroom lining up the jars she'd filled and labelled surprisingly quickly. He leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms across his chest and watched as she pulled her bag from the floor and rooted around in it, eventually locating a long, thin piece of plastic. He frowned in confusion as she held it up to the shelf, glancing repeatedly back at it as she shuffled the jars about. Severus realised in amusement that it must be a Muggle ruler. She was ensuring that the jars were the same distance apart from each other, with just enough space to lift them easily from the shelf. He often did the same, but using the width of two fingers as a guide as he'd never seen fit to purchase a ruler. He absently wondered whether the Arithmancy witch, Vector, would have one. It was strangely comforting to know he wasn't the only one with a sometimes neurotic need for perfection with the simplest of things. He knew his reason was to perhaps compensate for other things in his life. What was hers?

As she stepped back and looked at her work in approval, he broke the silence.

"Are you quite finished, Miss Granger?"

The bushy-haired girl started at his voice and turned.

"Oh, it's- yes, sir. I thought I might as well put them on this shelf since it was empty…unless you needed it for something else…" she trailed off, looking awkward, the ruler dropping to her side.

Severus was tempted to begin ranting but stopped himself. He would have placed them there himself. There would be time for shouting next time if he discovered them to be in some random order.

"I assume you have your Head Girl duties to see to now, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, I'm on hall duty."

He thought for a moment. "I seem to recall it being Mr Malfoy's turn this evening."

She nodded. "We have joint duty on Thursdays, sir."

"And how do you find working with Mr Malfoy?"

"Pardon?" she looked at him with confusion.

Severus exhaled in impatience. "Do you co-operate with him?"

"Of course, sir."

He began to nod to himself before turning towards his office. "I'll need you again on Monday evening. I suggest you go now before you are as late for your duty as you were to assist me."

Severus noted with triumph the way her fists clenched at her sides as his remark struck her. She had been all of ten seconds late and he'd squeezed all the snide comments he could out of it. It was rather entertaining to see her bite her tongue for once, though he did wonder why she didn't protest or defend herself. Perhaps he'd try a Delaying Charm on the corridor outside one night if he were bored.

"Goodnight Miss Granger." Without waiting for a reply he shut his office door behind him.

On the way out of the room, Hermione kicked a table leg in frustration, imagining it was Snape's shin and winced at the sudden pain. She was determined to see this through, no matter how much damage she ended up doing to her unfortunate foot.

-

Draco leant against the wall by the foot of the stairs and stared off into space. It wasn't like her to be late for duty. She was usually the one waiting for him. He heard sudden footsteps upon stone and stiffened, glancing about him. There was no one around as far as he could see and he automatically reached put one hand on his wand, which was placed inside his pocket.

In the dim candlelight, he recognised familiar bushy hair heading up the dungeon steps and he let out a breath of relief that he didn't known he'd been holding. As she came closer, he could hear her muttering under her breath. Her mouth was set in a firm line and her brown eyes were narrowed and occupied. She looked up and his presence suddenly registered with her.

"Oh, it's you," she said stopping, her countenance still set.

Draco raised an eyebrow at the impromptu greeting. "Glad to see you too."

Hermione's face softened. "Sorry."

He nodded in acceptance. "Where were you?"

Her features looked a little more pinched at his question. "In the Potions lab. Do you mind coming up to the tower with me? I need to put my bag in the common room."

Draco fell into step wither her as she started up the stairs. "Why were you in Potions?"

Hermione said something very quickly. He frowned. "Pardon?"

She sighed. "I'm Snape's assistant."

"Snape's- since when does he have an 'assistant'?"

"Since I asked him."

Draco was surprised. He didn't think anyone, let alone a Gryffindor would sign up for that job.

"Why would you do that?"

"It'll look good for university and I like Potions." Hermione looked at him accusingly. "Is that so surprising?"

"Not for you." She turned the corner, leading towards the Gryffindor tower.

She glowered at him and he held up his hands in defence.

"I'm joking. It's just that he's not exactly what I'd perceive as a gratifying person to work for."

"That's not the point," he heard her murmur under her breath but before he could say anything else, she spoke again.

"I'll be back in a minute," she told him before quickly going up the winding steps.

When she returned, they both fell silent again. The conversation had been odd for both of them, considering that the only two words they usually deemed necessary were 'hello' and 'goodnight.' However, after checking around the Hufflepuff entrance, Hermione spoke up, hesitantly this time.

"Draco?"

He looked to her in surprise. Being continually referred to by her as 'Malfoy' was tradition and he wasn't the most susceptible person to change.

"Do you…would you say you knew Professor Snape well?"

He hadn't expected a question like that. Why did Gr- Hermione want to know? Briefly, he wondered whether Potter had told her to get friendly and try to find out whether he was a potential Death-Eater or not. It wasn't impossible.

"A bit, I suppose," he answered.

"Does he have many relatives?" she pressed.

Confused at her interest, Draco shook his head. "Not many. Just his parents. And me, I guess."

She frowned. "You?"

"Well not technically. He's my godfather."

He watched her absorb the information with a hint of surprise.

"Why?" he asked.

"No reason…I just wondered." Her pace began to speed up a little and he decided not to question her again. He did feel a little apprehensive though. It was strange for her to ask something like that out of the blue. Draco wondered whether it had anything to do with her new 'job'. He wasn't sure he wanted to believe that she was asking on behalf of Potter. Her friendliness had seemed too real for him to accept that. Tucking his reservations away in his mind, he accelerated his steps to keep up with the Gryffindor.

* * *

**A/N: **From my own decision and the resounding opinions I received- there will be no DM/SS/HG triangle, though there may be some conflicting feelings. Not necessarily from DM or SS either. Rubs hands together in glee How I love tormenting them. Thanks for the enthusiastic response. Much appreciated and I've been getting back on track lately with my fics and have posted updates to Anam Cara and IDWTBA in the last two days.

**Captain Oblivious- **Interesting plot bunny, but poor Draco! He's meant for somebody I'm sure but not our leading lady. Thanks for reviewing!

**Winter Solstice- **Isn't he just?! I love the word 'flounce' and it seemed very Snape-ish to me so I threw it in for good measure. (Camp? Nooo! Not this Sevvie!) I'm glad the flow doesn't seem to have any bumps in transitions; I think it's important to develop it from different character perspectives. Thanks for the feedback.

**Strega-in-progress- **I'm sorry to hear about your PC probs. I can sympathise, Mine puts me through hell. Thanks for the review!

**Embattledcurve- **I rather liked that review, mostly because of your honesty. I agree that it would 'deflect this fic from its original purpose' which is why (see above), there will be no love triangle, as such. Draco's character and future in this story is pretty much decided anyway. Thanks for stopping by.

**M'cha Araem- **Nope, I haven't seen that movie but I'm now intrigued. I will keep an eye out for it. Who's in it? Thanks for the review. Also, does your penname have a meaning?

**DistinctVagueness**


	6. Chapter Six

**Losing Sleep**

**By DistinctVagueness**

****

**Chapter 6**

The last week of February quickly passed into March. Hermione found, to her satisfaction, that Professor Snape in no way acknowledged the end of her 'trial period', remaining as impassive as he'd ever been. On the third evening that she was summoned to his office, he told her clearly on which nights she would be required. Surprisingly, he didn't demand her assistance every night, as she'd imagined, but only gave her instructions for four nights a week, leaving her weekend free for studying. Hermione did her homework after dinner and settled into her new schedule well. Of course, routine suited her.

Though the hours weren't exactly strenuous, Snape put her attendance to good use and she rarely found herself unoccupied while in the Potions classroom.

When half an hour remained on Thursday night, Hermione got up from her seat at one of the desks and went about her usual task with a thick notebook and a quill. The notebook was the student ingredient inventory and now had a few pages filled with Hermione's small and sometimes scrawled lettering. She went along the shelf, taking down jars, checking on the contents and emptying those that were no longer suitable for use. At each jar, she would make a comment in the notebook as to its current status.

As most of the ingredients had been replenished a few days before, when she reached the end of the shelf, Hermione only had to refill the large jar reading 'Bicorn, powdered horn of'.

Carrying it with her, Hermione crossed over to the door leading to the small storeroom that contained ingredients for student use. She turned the handle and let out an indistinct noise at the back of her throat. Typical. He'd left it locked again. Snape knew perfectly well that she'd probably need access to the room on a Thursday.

Hermione looked reluctantly at the other door that led to his office. She'd have to get the key from him, or risk being berated for failing to do her job properly. She went to knock softly on the door with no enthusiasm. She was tired and simply wanted to get this over with, so she could do her Head Girl duties and return to Gryffindor Tower.

Patiently, Hermione waited either for the door to be pulled open with a customary scowl or a sharp 'enter!' to be issued.

There was neither.

Frowning slightly, Hermione knocked again, only to be greeted by silence. Tentatively, she turned the handle and slowly pushed the door inwards.

"Professor?" she announced herself, peering around the doorframe, before stepping into the room when there was no answer. The office was silent and empty, but yet, it was not completely devoid of his presence. Snape's territory was clearly marked by the dark wooden panelling on the walls, matched by both his floor and his desk, which was currently an organised mess. There wasn't an inch of space to be had on it, but everything already placed there was in some sort of order. Hermione felt a little uneasy, a trespasser, as if Professor Snape was lurking in some shadowed corner watching her every move and ready to strike when the mood took him. Of course, she reminisced, that was not altogether unlikely given his character.

Suddenly, this train of thought urged Hermione to leave. She quickly looked around for the storeroom key. The small, bronze item wasn't atop his desk, obscured by unmarked papers, nor was it lying upon a shelf or cupboard. Biting her lip, Hermione turned back towards the classroom. Something caught her eyes. Behind the open door hung a heavy green curtain. It was pulled across and though she'd known it was there previously, what was behind it had never been questioned. Curious, Hermione set the empty jar beside the papers on his desk and moved towards it, pushing the material aside a little, in order to go through.

The space the curtain concealed was inundated in darkness, since only a little light could escape from the next room. Squinting, Hermione could see a candle mounted on the opposite wall. Careful not to trip on some unseen obstacle, she made her way across to it and brought out her wand to light it. Immediately, the room was bathed in a warm, flickering glow.

Hermione turned and felt her breath hitch. She was standing in a long, narrow room. The walls could barely be seen as shelves and shelves of books took up every inch. A little awed at the amount of pages this room must contain, Hermione began to walk forward. There was a thick rug on the stone, running the length of the shelves.

She looked a little closer at the books. There were a great deal of Potions texts, which was only to be expected, but there were many other magical books to be read, hardbacks, paperbacks, theory journals, all in various letterpresses and colours.

What surprised her was that the majority of the books on these shelves weren't magical theory, or even wizarding fiction. There was a huge selection of Muggle works on the shelves too, beginning with textbooks on subjects such as Maths or Physics, progressing onto books of poetry and novels. There were some first editions, including a fine copy of J.R.R Tolkien's _Silmarillion,_ and she was rather amused to find several well-thumbed Terry Pratchett paperbacks, her father's favourite author.

With her finger running along the spines, Hermione traced a path back to the Potions books and gently pulled out _'Potion Reversal: Accidental Discoveries' _by _Arnolde Rynwalde. _Seemingly forgetting where she was, Hermione began to browse through the pages.

-

Severus was already immensely irritated when he opened the door to the Potions classroom, and the fact that his assistant had adjourned her duties five minutes before she was permitted to, didn't serve towards alleviating his mood. Granger had also left his inventory notebook lying open on a desk, her quill forgotten beside it. The classroom was silent and there was no clue as to what had led to her departure. Then his eyes alighted upon his office door. It was open.

Granger.

Lips thinned and eyes narrowed, Severus strode through the rows of desks to the back of the room and into the office. His black gaze swept the room only to find that the Head Girl wasn't to be seen. Suspicious as to how someone would take the trouble to sneak into his rooms and then do something as careless as to leave the door wide open, an obvious sign of their visit, Severus scanned his desk. Nothing was missing.

But that jar certainly hadn't been there before…leading something else to draw Severus's gaze. The curtain behind the open door was slightly drawn. His once angry footfalls were softened as he began to walk into the adjoining room.

His questions were all answered at the small brunette he found there. Granger. How typical that she'd ended up in here of all places. He kept his mouth shut as he watched her, letting the anticipation build before he announced his presence.

The Head Girl was at the far left of the room, completely oblivious to his being there. Her eyes were flying over the many Muggle titles there with a slight expression of surprise. Severus watched as she took down a well-read paperback and frowned when he saw her lips turn up slightly in amusement.

He stepped back into the darker corner of the room as she began to trace her way back along the books, finally stopping to pull one off the shelves. He stiffened slightly at the text she held in her small hands. It was a rather expensive book and he was prepared to pull it from her at the slightest sign of her manhandling it.

Instead, Granger allowed her hands to skim the cover of the book before gently opening it. She began to read and before long Severus began to suspect he could yell for all he was worth before catching her attention. He studied the expression on her face. It was not what he had expected. Granted, Granger was a certified bookworm but he had always wondered whether she took the entirety of her knowledge from books, or whether she ever paused to actually _feel_ what she was learning. He had always inferred that it was the former, but now…

The look on her face wasn't pure concentration, she surely wasn't attempting to memorise the words there. It was part absorption, and part something else. It wasn't the look of someone who was enamoured, but a similar adjective would do.

Realising he had been observing her for longer than necessary, he cleared his throat.

The Gryffindor jumped a mile and whirled around, clutching the book to her chest before it fell to the floor. "Professor!" She stared at him guiltily.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, how did you find yourself to be in this room?"

"I…er…the key!" she told him, with the air of a naughty child with her hand caught in the biscuit tin. He cocked one eyebrow.

"Do at least _try_ to defend yourself logically."

She swallowed. "I was looking for you, sir. I needed the key to the storeroom."

"And you expected to find it between the pages of these books?"

She lowered her eyes at that. "I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have intruded."

"Indeed you shouldn't have. Your curiosity inevitably seems to be your downfall at every turn, Miss Granger."

Hermione waited for the punishment to fall. None came. She dared to meet Snape's eyes as he spoke again.

"I realise that we agreed upon only four nights a week, Miss Granger but I have to call upon your assistance tomorrow night."

"Sir?" she questioned.

"I have something to attend to outside of the castle and there will be a potion I will not be able to oversee during that time. I will leave everything you need in the classroom. You will simply have to follow the instructions that I put out for you."

Hermione nodded, a little taken aback at his request of her assistance with a potion. Her responsibilities had only ever involved ingredients and cleaning up.

"Ensure that my classroom is rid of your presence by ten o' clock." The warning tone in his voice was far more familiar that what she was being asked to do. "Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well, Miss Granger. Goodnight." He looked to the opposite room, indicating that she should leave. Hermione couldn't help taking a wistful look at the books she left behind her as she started to walk past him.

Snape obviously caught it because he rolled his eyes in a typical fashion. "Oh, for Merlin's sake." He strode over to the shelf she had been standing at and ran his finger along the titles until finding what it was he wanted. He pulled out a book and handed it to her. Hermione read the title, to find that it was the same as she had been perusing earlier, only the cover was worn and she could see that some of the pages had been folded back.

"I expect that to be on my desk by Monday's lesson."

Hermione raised her eyes from the book's cover. "Sir…why do you have two copies of the same book? Are they different editions?"

Snape gave her a look that suggested that she was testing his patience. "No. I confess I keep the one you were so eager to examine purely for its aesthetic value."

"Oh." Hermione shifted its weight to under her arm. "Thank you…sir."

"Unnecessary. Now get out."

Deciding not to say anymore, she wasted no time in pushing past the curtain and escaping his office.

It was only when she closed the door of the classroom behind her that she realised he hadn't subtracted house points or even given her a detention for her misconduct, which had been the least she was expecting.

-

On Friday night, Hermione entered the Great Hall, her gaze directed to the Gryffindor table and was surprised to find only Ron sitting there out of her friends, calmly helping himself to the tureen of peas by his plate. She made her way over and sat on the opposite side of the table.

"Hi." Ron smiled as he picked up his fork and began to eat.

"Hey," Hermione replied before taking the top off the nearest dish. The delicious smell of a casserole began to rise into the air and she started to spoon a generous portion of it onto her plate. "Where are Harry and Ginny?"

"Ginny's been and gone," Ron informed her. " And Harry…well, he's up in our room again." The relaxed expression on his face had changed now as he regarded his friend. She matched his concerned look. "Do you think he's sick?" he asked.

Hermione considered this. "It can't be," she said slowly. "He's been getting worse since Christmas and he hasn't said he feels ill or anything. I know Harry isn't big on sympathy, but even he'd admit if he was feeling sick." She paused and looked at him decisively. "No, it isn't to do with being ill."

"Then it's what I wished it wasn't, isn't it?" Ron's eyes betrayed his real worry.

Hermione nodded. "Harry…he thinks he's alone in all of this. If he'd just talk to us…"

"He's been reading a lot, you know," Ron told her. "And it's not about the N.E.W.T's. He keeps going down to the library and he's always returning with some Defence book or another. At first I thought it was for the DA, but now… " Ron trailed off with uncertainty. "Hermione, he doesn't talk about Quidditch anymore, except in team practice."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Not everything is about Quidditch, Ron."

Ron made a face. "I know that-"

"But Harry usually doesn't…" finished Hermione quietly.

Both sat in silence for a few minutes and she began her meal. Suddenly, it couldn't go down fast enough. Reluctant to spend any more time in the worried quiet, she picked an apple from the fruit bowl and went to stand up.

"I'll see you later," she told Ron who was only halfway through his dinner.

"Where are you off to?"

"I need to watch a potion for Professor Snape while he's out. I'll be back after ten."

Ron shook his head in amused exasperation. "Hermione, it's Friday! This assistant job, or whatever it is, sucks up your free time enough as it is without Snape making you work on the weekend too. "

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's expected reaction. "And I usually have such an active social life."

"Oh, come on, 'Mione," Hermione frowned at the nickname. "Seamus has some Butterbeer up in the room, or we could go out to the Quidditch pitch." Ron smiled hopefully at her; probably thinking the offer was irresistible.

Hermione shook her head, She knew exactly what Ron's intentions could lead to and she wasn't about to encourage his feelings. For a time, she'd hoped to have something new with him, but quickly realised that it wasn't for her. Ron would always be the boy she'd met on the train in her first year, if taller and a little more articulate. That wasn't enough for her.

She shook her head. "See you later, Ron." Ignoring his disappointed look, she went on her way out of the Great Hall, only stopping to glance up at the High Table. One place was empty. Snape must have already left, giving her more of a reason to hurry down the steps to the dungeons and get on with her task.

Hermione didn't notice the same look being thrown to the staff table by a blonde Slytherin and she certainly wouldn't have guessed the reason behind it.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for the enthusiastic response. I saw PofA on Monday and it got me in the mood to update, but my computer wasn't as eager as I was, typically, so this chapter is a little late in the posting. The pace of the plot will pick up a little from the next chapter.

**JustJeanette- **It is a bit of a cliché plot line, which I recognise but I'm glad you like my spin on it. Thanks for the review.

**Claire Rickman- **First of all- I love your e-mail address and very much agree with it ;¬) Thanks for the sweet review, I'm glad you like it so far.

**Ezmerelda- **I'm glad you kept reading. Don't worry, I couldn't have too many 'conflicting feelings' without Draco getting in the way, which would deflect from his purpose here. Thanks for stopping by.

**M'cha Araem- **Hmm. I recognise Charlie Sheen from when I used to watch Spin City. Dr. Perry? Does he make fun of the guy who's the main character? Think I know who you mean.

Yes, it was a bit of a filler, but I thought it necessary. The plot will pick up again next chapter. I needed to 'set the scene' a little. Thanks for your review.

**Embattledcurve- **I didn't realise I'd made a slight pun until I re-read it : ) Hermione isn't 'obsessively compulsive', she just had the time on her hands and thought she might as well make a perfect job of it. I also wanted to compare the two of them, have a little quirk they share. Thanks for the review.

**DistinctVagueness**


	7. Chapter Seven

**Losing Sleep**   
**By Distinct Vagueness**

****

**Chapter 7**

When Hermione reached the classroom, she found it in near-darkness. A solitary candle drifted above the desks, but not producing nearly enough light to see what she was doing. She charmed a few more and the room was soon bathed in a warm glow.

Able to see easily now, Hermione went to the only cauldron set up at the back. A blue flame flickered below it, licking at the weary metal of the instrument. Taking the single leaf of parchment that accompanied it, Hermione glanced at what was already prepared. Inside the cauldron bubbled a mauve coloured mixture. With a closer look, she could see fragments of green slowly breaking down and succumbing to the heat. She wondered about its viscous nature, but decided not to stir it in fear of disturbing what it was supposed to become. Her eyes flicked to the parchment.

_Miss Granger,_

_I trust that if you are reading this, you have managed to avoid knocking over the cauldron upon entrance. Kudos._

Hermione rolled her eyes. So he didn't need that voice to convey his trademark sarcasm. His lettering spoke derisive volumes as it was.

_If you are on time, the potion has been gently simmering for two hours. Remove the cauldron from the heat and read the following method for the second stage of the_ Aduro Percuro Potion.

There followed a list of instructions. Hermione surmised he was making the potion for Madame Pomfrey. It eased the pain and most outward signs of extreme burns and skin abrasions. Or perhaps for himself, she thought in passing, frowning at what that could mean for his return.

_You will leave my classroom at ten o' clock. I expect it to be empty and the potion on a low flame upon my return._

_Professor Snape._

"What? No 'see you soon, lots of love, Professor Snape'?" Hermione muttered under her breath with a raised eyebrow, before heading to the ingredients shelf to gather what she needed.

-

Draco held his wand before him as he strolled along a second floor corridor. Sometimes the absence of light in the castle bothered him. It wouldn't kill the house elves to light a few extra candles, he thought to himself as he went around the corner and arrived at his destination.

There was a large window on the second floor that looked out over the path to the castle. It wasn't cluttered with stained images or frosting and so provided a perfect view of everyone and everything that entered the grounds. A light wind blew across the grass outside and carried dust across the stones and into the air. As he gazed out, there was a gentle pattering to be heard. Raindrops were beginning to fall from the torn, grey clouds above. Typical British weather really, though it was a bit early for April showers.

Draco wasn't watching from the window for the weather. It was about ten o'clock. He didn't exactly expect Severus to return yet, though he had been gone for a few hours. It all depended on the kind of gathering he'd been invited to. If it was a Revel, he could be expected to stay there 'til morning. But things had become different of late. For his godfather to be summoned was an event that was few and far between usually, but the Dark Lord had become more vociferous in his need to know what he had discovered. Which gave Severus two choices, either to lie, which led to the chance of being discovered sooner rather than later, or to pass over no information and hope for benevolence. It was rare for the Dark Lord to be easy-going on any of his subjects, so the price of silence, as always, would be pain. Draco had begun to measure the extent of his godfather's injuries on the length of time he was away.

He continued to stare out of the window, but the castle gates didn't swing open and no figure appeared from the rain. It was like that Muggle adage, he thought; something about a boiling pot or kettle and waiting being fruitless.

The sound of scuffling feet broke his concentration. There was flash of robes from the corner, which promptly disappeared and the footsteps came to an abrupt stop.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff," Draco barked out. "Get back to your common room."

Since being made Prefect in his fifth year, Draco had learnt to recognise the sounds and signs of each house when they were faced with being caught out after hours. From experience, he knew it was most likely a Hufflepuff from the fact that they often froze, not knowing whether to run or not. They were also appalling at talking themselves out of trouble.

There was a squeak- _'Girl, second year,'_ Draco guessed- and the footsteps were hurried and soon out of earshot.

Rolling his eyes, the Head Boy turned back to the window and then froze. He shook his head before setting off in a rush down the corridor.

-

Severus stretched out a hand for the gate, finally pushing it open and wincing at the shriek the hinges gave, which resounded ten times louder in his ears. He began to slowly walk down the path, blinking the blackness from his eyes, hoping that he was heading in the right direction to the castle doors.

Bloody Bellatrix. He cursed her as he nearly tripped over one of the stones. He'd come to the hope that the Dark Lord was only questioning the few Death-Eaters still stationed in the Ministry. It had seemed that way until the very end of the gathering, when Bellatrix had stood up and gave news of Lucius. Which inevitably led to the subject of Draco Malfoy. Instead of deflecting attention from him, Bellatrix took her seat and left Severus to attempt to reason why he hadn't spoken of him.

The Dark Lord hadn't exactly been in one of his most malicious moods, but was engaging in his sometimes inane sense of humour. There had been a 'joke' about not seeing straight until he got his priorities straight and now Severus was stumbling along the path, disorientated. Waves of black dots washed over his eyes and he had to fight the strong compulsion to head in the entirely wrong direction and upon Apparating to Hogsmeade, he feared being splinched.

Thankfully, he was in one piece and only had the challenge of finding his rooms. The spell would wear off by morning. He didn't particularly want to risk waving his wand around now to try to break it.

His hair was plastered to his head by the rain that was now lashing down and as he shook it, irritated, he heard a sound. The castle doors had opened. Severus froze. If it were Dumbledore, he'd merely be someone he wished to avoid. If it were a student…there would be no explanation given as to why the Potions Master was walking slowly along with an arm outstretched in the pouring rain, but the little brats would certainly come up with one. This notion actually made him hope it was Dumbledore. At least he wouldn't spread rumours of an inebriated Head of Slytherin House.

"Severus? It's me. What happened?"

Severus blinked in the direction of the voice. He should have known.

"Draco. What are you doing out here?" He attempted to look austerely towards Draco, only to collide with the younger man as he turned. A hand was on his arm to steady him.

"Watch the step," his godson told him.

"I'm not blind," Severus snapped, but was inwardly glad he'd been told before he fell over that too; his vision was getting cloudier by the minute.

"But you don't look in your right mind, either." Before the older man could admonish him for disrespect, he continued, his voice low as they entered the castle. "What happened?"

"Some people are easier to handle in a foul mood than certain ones are in what they think is good humour."

Draco frowned, while keeping a hand on his godfather's arm to guide him down the dungeon steps. "Did he-"

"This isn't a matter for discussion right now, Mr Malfoy."

Draco closed his mouth.

"We are by the Common Room, are we not?" asked Severus.

"…Yes," answered Draco slowly. He still wasn't sure exactly what had been done to him. He didn't seem in any visible pain, but his feet seemed unsteady, taking him in the wrong direction, or even towards walls.

"Then goodnight."

The Potions Master shook his arm free of Draco's hand and began to walk away, one hand trailing along the wall, feeling his way. The blonde stood by the entrance to the Slytherin common room for a few moments before trailing in the older man's path, his footsteps purposely soft. He knew Severus didn't appreciate much help from others, even when he needed it, but he at least wanted to make sure he made his way to the office without taking a sudden detour.

-

Hermione placed the third petri dish back into the cupboard and shut the door quickly. Heading back to the desk, she buckled the strap on her bag and slung it over her shoulder, glancing at her watch. It was a quarter past ten.

By ten minutes to, she had the potions at its final stage and decided to do a little reading before she turned down the flame. A little reading had turned into staying a little late and she'd exclaimed at her lack of attention, just glad that it hadn't lapsed at a crucial stage in the method he'd told her to follow.

Ensuring the desk was clean and tidy, she weaved her way through the desks and out of the classroom, shutting the door softly behind her. The book she had been reading had been the one he'd allowed her to borrow. She was almost finished it now, having stayed up late the night before engrossed in its pages, but intended to read it again and make some notes from it before handing it back promptly in Monday's lesson.

Pondering if a certain chapter would be useful for N.E.W.Ts revision, Hermione didn't notice the dark figure making its way uneasily towards her and smacked straight into a very solid body.

-

Draco went to run forward and grab Severus's cloak and tug him into a corner when he heard footsteps approaching. Severus apparently wasn't sharing his earshot tonight and continued on down the passageway on unsteady legs, out of reach of Draco, muttering to himself about something.

The person heading towards them turned the corner and Draco closed his eyes temporarily. Hermione Granger. Why was she wondering about here, alone, Friday night of all nights? He watched, expecting her to jump in fright at the sight of the Potions Master bearing down on her, but his presence didn't seem to register with the brown haired Head Girl. She continued down the passage, her steps quick and walked straight into Snape.

Caught off guard, Hermione wobbled for a second and then fell to the ground, her arms thrown backward to break her fall. She made an _"umpf"_ of discomfort and looked up accusingly. Her eyes widened before she staggered to her feet.

"Professor! I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…I know it's past ten, but I…Professor Snape?"

Severus had a hand to his brow, shielding his eyes. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. "Not now," he murmured. "Draco, I told you to…ten o' clock? What are you talking about?"

He was blinking hazily at her. Draco would have been amused if it were any other situation.

"It isn't Draco, sir," said Hermione hesitantly, looking puzzled at his confusion. "It's Hermione. Er, Granger, sir."

Severus groaned. Both hands were at his head now and Draco didn't think it was entirely from her presence. "Granger…ju-just go," He winced, one hand making slow circles at his forehead.

"Sir, I-"

"Leave! Just move. Go…somewhere…" He gestured at the wall that was supposed to be Hermione.

The girl bit her lip and took a slow step towards him, one small hand rising to touch his shoulder. He shrugged away from it.

"I can't think of leaving you here like this, sir…I don't know what's wrong with you exactly, but…" she trailed off. Draco watched her eyes rake over his face and frown at the lack of signs of pain, except for his hands at his forehead.

Suddenly, he lifted his head, his hands leaving his eyes "Miss Granger?" One hand stretched outwards.

Hermione stepped back a little. "Professor?"

"I can't see," he murmured.

She stared at him. "Pardon?"

"I _can't see!"_ he snapped. "Are you deaf, girl?"

"No," she replied, defensively. "I was just…you can't see?"

A glare in the direction of the wall answered her question. "Oh. Okay." She swallowed slightly. Was there something affecting his eyes, or had he actually gone blind?

"Sir…do you want me to find someone…maybe Du-"

He swung around in the wrong direction at her question. "No."

"But if you-"

"I simply need to get to my rooms," he interrupted crisply. He put a hand out to the wall, running his fingers over the stone. He turned slightly, frowning and then sighed. Without attempting to look her way, he spoke to Hermione, who was watching in trepidation.

"Miss Granger. I'm afraid that necessity compels me to make use of you. You remember the location of my office, do you not?"

"Yes," she replied. It was painted clearly on her mind from her last nightly trip there. Of course he would refuse to acknowledge that memory.

"Then you will guide me there before retiring to your own rooms, understand?"

Hermione didn't reply, but threw a glance down the corridor.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione laid a hand on his arm, intending to lead him along the passage. She felt stung when he immediately brushed it off.

"Words will do, Miss Granger. There is no need to act the sheepdog."

Draco stifled a laugh at the fury Hermione bit her lip in an obvious effort to keep inside. He assumed she was affronted at the canine reference, not the fact that he had acted as if her touch burnt him.

"I apologise." There was no 'sir' this time.

"Just do as I've asked and then get out of my si-" Severus stopped at his mistake. He couldn't see the sudden change of her insulted expression to one of amusement.

"Just keep walking forward, sir. I'll tell you when we reach the steps."

Draco watched as she guided him down the passage. He sank down onto the stone to wait.

-

"Your office is here, sir," Hermione told the man beside her quietly. She watched as a pale hand emerged from his robes and reached out for his door. He muttered something and there was a loud click as the door unlocked. The hand slipped down to the silver handle. As he pushed the door inwards, he turned his head a little in the direction of the girl looking on. Snape's lips shifted slightly, as if he was about to say something, but then he thought better of it, stepping inside and neatly closing the door right behind him.

Hermione was left staring at the closed door, caught between attempting entry or not. He wasn't exactly hurt, she realised. The 'blindness' he appeared to have, was likely to be some spell as he'd only lost vision when she was with him, not before. Brow furrowed, she turned and began to walk back from where she'd came from, shifting her bad slightly on her shoulder. As she rounded the corner, a figure appeared from beside the solitary statue in the narrow passage.

She stepped back when she recognised the blonde hair, neatly combed back and shining in the candlelight.

"Draco?"

He nodded, but there was no happy familiarity in his expression. He regarded her through narrowed eyes.

"Why were you down here?" he asked, straight to the point.

She frowned. Had he seen Professor Snape's return? Did he know where he had been? "I was working on a potion for Professor Snape. I've been helping him for a while now, remember?"

"It's a Friday."

"Yes…"

"You don't come down here on a Friday. Why weren't you in Gryffindor Tower?" raised Draco, suspiciously.

"And _why_ is it any business of yours?" Hermione demanded, feeling angry. Why was she receiving the third degree treatment?

Draco fell silent, but his cold eyes were still fixed upon her. "Is he in his office?" he said, finally.

_Ah_. "You saw me before, didn't you?" Hermione realised.

Draco nodded before coming closer, his gaze pinned to her own uneasy one. "You won't say a word of this to anyone, especially not Potter or the Weasel. Understood?"

She stepped back. "Don't give me orders, Draco."

Unfazed, Draco kept his tone steady. It wouldn't do any good for members of Gryffindor to find out about Snape's late night trips, as they undoubtedly would once she returned. "You'll do as I say, Granger." He felt a slight twinge by addressing her so, but thought it would have the desired effect.

"I'll do as I wish, _Malfoy_," she replied icily. "I didn't tell anyone last time so why should I now?"

Hermione froze, one hand raised to cover her mouth. Suddenly, she turned, intending to get away from him and the inevitable question. He was too quick for her, grabbing her arm tightly and tugged her back, his face close to hers.

"What do you mean, _'last time'?"_ She looked away, trying to pull her arm from his grasp but he kept a firm hold. "Granger."

Hermione glared at him defiantly, her lips pressed tightly together.

"Hermione," he addressed her again, his tone softer. She took her chance, pulling her arm away from him. She shook her head.

"I said I wouldn't," she said, and he had the distinct feeling she was talking more to herself than him.

"Her-"

"No." She gave him one last look and then fled up the passage and around the corner. He didn't chase her. Draco's gaze trailed her path before turning to the other end of the corridor, towards his godfather's office. Hermione Granger knew more than she should, more than she was trying to let on. Making a decision to find out exactly what that was, from either of them, Draco began slow steps to his own rooms.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry about the longer than usual wait. I had most of this written but I'm been bouncing in and out of computer hell recently. First I think it needs a new hard drive, then it doesn't, and so on. Plus I have just finished the last of 6 exams- 2 each day since Monday, and I had 5 last week. Got two left to do and then I'm free from high school. Thanks for the bucket load of reviews- you really do make my day. Hope you like the plot advancement.

**Captain Oblivious- **PoA rocked. Enough said. Oh, except there was a few plot hiccups, which I expected, but still frowned at. Especially the Firebolt, Crookshanks having a lesser part and explanations regarding Lupin and the Marauders being a little thin on the ground. What did you think? Thanks for stopping by.

**Claire Rickman- **PoA- read above. An argument over this? I suddenly feel popular…cough …and that's now over with, leaving me to nervously see what you think of this chapter. Thanks for reviewing.

**M'cha Araem- **Terry Pratchett? I think he's pretty funny, especially when it comes to the Grim Reaper and his mother. I imagined Severus being intrigued and perhaps even amused after reading a little Discworld. I confess I haven't read that much Pratchett, but I certainly liked what I did read. I promise to read more this summer for using his name in this fic.  
Harry's going through an angsty patch at the moment. He'll wake up eventually. Thanks for your lovely long review.

**Rosmerta- **I'm glad you decided to check this out. Hermione's not feeling too friendly with Draco right now though… Thanks for reviewing.

**Little Eirtae- **_'Ron/Hermione Shippers should be thwacked over the head with muffins. (No offense, if any of you happen to be reading this. Muffins really aren't that hard.)'_ Laughs I wish I hadn't just taken a sip of my drink when I read that. For the record, I have nothing against RW/HG shippers, 'specially in canon., but SS/HG is by far superior. Thanks for reviewing.

**Lady Pirates- **Thank you for the reviews you've been dropping by my fics lately. I was just wondering about there being four of you under one screen name- are you reading them together on the same computer, or are you in various places, communicating by e-mail, IM etc? Just wondering. Thanks again.

**Sanaria- **Don't be afraid! Step into the light, my friend. Once you've gone SS/HG, you'll never want to turn back. Grins I hope you don't, anyway. Thanks for reviewing.

**Embattledcurve- **I'm glad he's believable so far. Thanks for the review.

**Athyn1- **I fervently promise to keep up to date with this. I only have one or two fics that I have neglected. I really should pick them up again… Thanks for your review.

**_DistinctVagueness_**


	8. Chapter Eight

**Losing Sleep**

**By Distinct Vagueness**

****

**Chapter 8**

"Miss Granger, you do realise that if you do not return the remaining books you still have on loan, I will not allow you even one more today."

Hermione's face fell. "But look, Madam Pince, I brought back those two," she said gesturing at the books that were stacked neatly on the librarian's desk. "Surely, you could just-"

"No, I could not _just_, Miss Granger, as I have told you before. Now, is there anything else you want, or will you return to your homework and leave me in peace?"

"It's just this one," Hermione cajoled, bringing out the book that had been concealed behind her back. "I need it to do _one_ essay. I promise I will bring it back, along with the others, tomorrow."

Madam Pince eyed her with a narrowed gaze behind thick spectacles. "I hope I am not the only one aware that you have the exact same book in your room, incidentally also from my shelves, except that that this one is an older edition."

Hermione looked at the older woman with pleading eyes. She'd convinced her before; she could do it again. "Yes, but it can be extremely interesting to see how facts have changed in the last decade. For example, did you know-"

"Miss Granger." Sighing, Pince held her hand out for the book. Hermione gave it to her, feeling a burst of success in her chest. Which abruptly disappeared as the book was placed firmly out of sight.

"When-"

"But-"

"_When, _Miss Granger, you bring me a minimum of two books from the mounting supply in your room, you may take leave of this one. Until then…you might as well make do with what you have."

"I bet Parvati put you up to this," the Head Girl murmured, the book well and truly out of her grasp.

"Pardon?"

Hermione shook her head. "Doesn't matter." She turned away from the desk, only to crash into someone directly behind her.

"Harry!"

The black haired young man gave her a wan smile. "Hi, Hermione."

"I didn't expect you to be in here today. Who told you there were two nine o' clocks on a Sunday?" Her eyes flitted to the book he was carrying and she nodded towards it. "What're you reading?"

Strangely, Harry pulled the book to chest, as if instinctively. "Oh…just a defence book for the DA. That's all."

Since the fiasco in the fifth year, the student attempt into organising themselves into a defence group obviously hadn't gone unnoticed. Instead of berating them, many of the teachers had recognised the idea as a good step in preparing them for what might come in the future. Rather than stepping in and removing the student leaders, they created two defence groups. Fifth years upwards had optional after school classes with Professors Lupin (newly reinstated in Hermione's sixth year) or Flitwick. On the odd occasion, Professor Snape made an appearance. He didn't often offer direct instruction- he seemed to prefer standing in a lone corner, observing.

Hermione had been surprised to see Professor Sinistra offering instruction to the pupils on one night too. Sinistra kept herself to herself mostly. She was dark and wiry with long hair she kept tied neatly upon her head. Despite her regular absence-, which sometimes reminded Hermione of Professor Trelawney-, she seemed a very grounded woman. In Astronomy lessons, she had a sharp, undeviating manner that left no gap for ignorance or attention lapses. Sinistra duly praised pupils when they achieved high standards and punished them fairly when they chose not to. It was rumoured she was Slytherin, but she possessed none of Snape's trademark sneers or cruel putdowns. She taught purely to teach, not to engage in or encourage House rivalry. She demanded respect, and it was achieved, unquestioned.

Sceptical as she might be of Divination, Hermione enjoyed Astronomy and her teacher's instruction. It wasn't a 'woolly' subject, far from it. In cases, it branched into what Muggle pupils would learn in Physics lessons.

First years to fourth years also had extra Defence lessons, but they were not taught by a Hogwarts teacher. Harry was looked up to and respected by the younger years, which was why Dumbledore had agreed that he should continue as leader for the younger members of the DA. Incidentally, the meaning of this name was permanently changed to the Defence Association, though its nickname had greatly amused the Headmaster.

Harry had been offered a choice; either continue the post of Quidditch Captain, or continue as DA leader. He had decided the latter, though remaining as Gryffindor Seeker, and given the post to Ron instead. Both boys had adjusted to their new roles and at first Harry had been happier for it, going about his lesson plans with gusto. But something had changed in the last year. The ready grin had disappeared from Harry's face, replaced with a strange intensity that Hermione had rarely seen in his eyes. On occasions previously, when Hermione had sensed any self-pity on Harry's part, she had acted to pull him out of that phase quickly, though she understood why he would fall prey to it. This time, there only seemed to be some strange, sheer realisation for her best friend, an awareness that dominated his thoughts.

Hermione simply glanced at the book, trying not to give away her thoughts. "I guess I'm not going to have to push you into revising this year, what with all the reading you've been doing," she said, lightly, smiling.

Harry returned it, but she realised they knew they were both skipping around the underlying subject.

"Well…I've got some revising of my own to do," Hermione told him, gesturing at the stack of notes she had been holding firmly under her arm. "Are you staying here?"

He shook his head. "Said I'd meet Ron down by the Quidditch Pitch. See you at lunch?"

Hermione nodded. "Probably. See you later. Oh, and Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I think Quidditch is good for you." She gave him another small smile and turned away.

Harry stood there for a few moments, watching her retreat, before leaving the library.

Hermione settled herself at a table near the window, ensuring plenty of light, and spread her notes over the table. She had barely begun to read before she heard a chair scrape beside her own and felt the presence of someone beside her. For a second, she felt a stab of annoyance. It was a well-known fact that you didn't disturb Hermione Granger when she was trying to study. She was a big fan of quiet and solitude, which wasn't usually disturbed on a Sunday.

She looked up briskly and froze. The pale young man sitting beside her looked steadily back.

"Malfoy," she addressed him stiffly. This was something she'd hoped to avoid.

Draco sighed. "Didn't we decide to scrap the formalities, _Hermione?"_

"Yes, but that was before you grabbed me and started to pry into my business, _Draco,_" she answered coldly.

"I wasn't 'prying'. You let something slip and it was obvious something important by your reaction."

"I don't have anything to let 'slip', so I couldn't have."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Can we please bypass this, and move onto the fact that we need to talk?"

"About what?" Hermione replied, avoiding his eyes.

"Friday. What you saw. Why were you doing in the dungeons?"

"Why do you want to know?" Hermione began to flick through the pages before her.

The Slytherin made an incoherent noise at the back of his throat. "I'm not playing a game here, Hermione, I need to know for a reason."

She finally met his eyes. "Then I need to know something from you first."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons too. Why were _you_ out in the middle of the night in the dungeons?"

He regarded her for a few moments with a raised eyebrow. "…Hermione, you might want to acquaint yourself with the fact that I _live_ down there most of the time."

"I'm not stupid, Draco. You were there for a reason."

"Maybe I was."

She sighed in exasperation before pushing aside her work. "Look, it's blindingly obvious that we're both dodging the topic of Professor Snape and what happened to him on Friday night. You weren't taking a late stroll around the dungeons, if you were, you wouldn't be so paranoid about my being there."

"Perceptive of you."

"Shut up, Draco. We both know he doesn't visit The Three Broomsticks on nights like Friday." She paused. "What?"

Draco was looking at her with a frown. "Friday night isn't the first you've seen him like that, is it? You said 'last time'. What happened 'last time'?"

Hermione glanced at the tabletop before answering. "He came back later. It was worse. He was apparently fine in the next morning?"

"You went to get Dumbledore, didn't you?" Draco's tone was almost accusatory.

Hermione shook her head. "I wanted to…he wouldn't let me."

"Then…you left him?"

"Of course I didn't," she replied, looking offended. "I gave him one of his potions. Made sure he was asleep in his rooms before I left."

Draco looked surprised. "He let _you_ into his rooms?"

"Yes…of course, he wasn't terribly conscious of me at the time. Why are you so shocked?"

"Because he never lets me near him if he can help it. More than once he's slammed his door in my face."

Hermione shrugged. "Doesn't make a difference anyway. He has the same attitude towards me as usual. When I help out in the Potions lab, he either evades me completely, or refuses to acknowledge my existence."

"Sounds like Uncle Severus," said Draco wryly.

They sat in silence for a few moments, until Hermione turned to him again. "I have the feeling," she said slowly, "That we should try to…I don't know…do something…help him."

Draco laughed without mirth. "Gryffindor to the core, aren't you?" he said softly, but it wasn't an insult. At her glare, he continued. "What are you suggesting? Nursing him into somewhat better health? Meeting him after a Revel with Paracetamol and a Dreamless Sleep Potion? There isn't much we can do…he doesn't like 'help.' He hates feeling any way dependent on anyone."

"_No, _I'm not suggesting any of those things. I'm not so stupid as to believe he would accept those things, least of all from me. I'm just thinking that we should…keep an eye on him. Watch for when he leaves the castle. Be ready for…the worst. And here's a risky thought- you could talk to him."

"Don't you think I've tried that?" asked Draco. "Besides, we have other things to talk about."

"Such as?"

Draco smiled slightly and shook his head. "This share time doesn't cover certain aspects, Hermione." His smile faded. "But we can do the other things- keeping a lookout for him." He suddenly glanced over his shoulder, surveying the library. A group of chattering Slytherins had just entered the library.

"I'll talk about this another time," he said looking uncomfortable. Nodding to her, he stood up quietly, pushed his chair neatly beneath the table and walked away, disappearing within the nearby bookshelves.

Hermione didn't sit long at the desk before gathering her notes and vacating it herself. She left the library, vaguely heading in the direction of the grounds and Quidditch Pitch, while processing the conversation she'd just engaged in. Lost in thought, the voice that disturbed her, made her jump round, scattering parchment everywhere.

Professor Snape stood in the corridor, an eyebrow lifted as he watched her stoop to the ground to gather up her paper, a slight tinge of humiliation staining her cheeks. When she finally stood up, he spoke again.

"Follow me to my office, Miss Granger. We need to have a discussion." The tone was final and authoritative. He turned and swept back down the hall, knowing full well she had to half run to keep in his wake.

-

Severus had awoken Saturday morning with a throbbing headache and a blurred recollection of the night before. His sight was no longer obstructed, just slightly cloudy when he first opened his eyes. It was rather like awaking with a mild hangover. He hoped fervently that the next to be caught by the Dark Lord's radar was Malfoy. He certainly knew a few well-placed curses he was itching to cast after last night.

The next thing he had remembered made him freeze. He groaned. Exactly what he had been dreading from the beginning of all this. A student had come across him upon his return. And not just any student. A Gryffindor. Hermione Granger, to be exact. He knew that her insatiable curiosity of matters that didn't concern her would surely arise sooner rather than later.

She needed to be warned.

He hadn't intended to come across her on his way to the Headmaster's office this morning, but now seemed as good a time as any. He suspected it would be fairly easy to intimidate her into silence. She always eventually backed down in his classes.

"Do keep up," he sneered as they reached his office door. She looked slightly out of breath after virtually running after his long strides. He opened the door and walked in. She followed.

"Close the door."

Hermione acquiesced and stood before it warily as he took a seat behind his desk.

"Sit."

Obediently, she sat in the uncomfortable chair he kept especially for his students.

"We are both well aware of what you saw on Friday night, Miss Granger, so I won't dally over the details, though I doubt you would know the cause."

"I think I can make an educated guess, Professor." Words verging on bold escaped her mouth. She suddenly bit her lip and looked at his desk.

"Do not speak out of turn."

"I'm sorry."

"Speak so of certain events to your friends, Miss Granger, and you will be."

She looked up at him now and he found it hard to discern the expression in her eyes. Her brow was furrowed.

"I would have hoped you thought more of me than that, Professor Snape. Do you really think I would make this a source of discussion in the Gryffindor common room?"

"Then we are clear. You may leave, Miss Granger," he answered; looking unconcerned as to any offence she might feel.

The Head Girl rose out of her chair, but on turning towards the door, she stopped.

"I would have thought you'd have been more bothered over last time, sir, especially if you're reacting like this now."

Severus froze.

She continued towards the door but was stilled by a growl from his direction.

_"Sit."_

Hermione swallowed and went to the chair again, not meeting his eyes. He was looming over his desk now, staring at her. Was that confusion that lurked in his eyes?

"'_Last time'?"_

Hermione frowned. "Yes…last time. You didn't acknowledge it so I thought…" She stopped in realisation and then gave him an identical stare. "You…you didn't know?"

"Do use your brain, Miss Granger. Does this _look _like the face of someone in the know?" he snarled before getting up from his desk. He began to pace while Hermione sat nervously.

"You."

"…Yes?"

"It was _you. _Insufferable, interfering _Gryffindor_…" He was shaking his head, unsure whether to be surprised or supremely not.

"Excuse me?" Hermione rose from her chair, a flash of anger jolting her. "If it wasn't for me, you might have been found by some first year, in a heap by your office. For all I knew at the time, you could have died or something! Was I supposed to leave you there?"

_"Yes! _You foolish girl!" He exhaled loudly, glowering at her.

"_I'm _foolish?" Hermione exclaimed. "You wouldn't even let me find Dumbledore to help!"

"I don't need _help. _Least of all from that meddlesome old bat!"

Hermione stared at him. She had never heard any teacher speak so disrespectfully about the wizened Headmaster. She suddenly hated the fact that it reflected some of her own perception of Dumbledore.

The room was drowned in silence, both occupants glaring at each other. Finally, Severus spoke.

"Just…get out, Granger."

She regarded him for a few second, her face red with anger before she seemed to deflate.

"Fine," she answered softly. She went to the door. Without turning, and with her hand on the doorknob, she spoke in a near-whisper.

"I'm sorry."

He frowned, caught off-guard. "What?"

She whirled round again, some of her previous energy dancing in her features. "I'm sorry for actually caring whether you made it home alive or not."

The door swung open, and then she was gone, slamming wood the only sound in her wake.

Severus sunk down in the chair she had vacated, and for once in his life, didn't bother to hide the fact that he was utterly bewildered.

-__

Hermione stormed through the dungeons, thunder in her eyes and a thousand different words flying through her mind. Words she should have said. She barely noticed when she passed Draco in a flurry of black robes and muttering.

The blonde opened his mouth to speak, but she'd already passed him. He got the feeling that trying to speak to the fiery Gryffindor at the moment would be akin to getting in the way of a hurricane. Merlin help Potter and Weasley. Seeing that she had come from the direction of his godfather's office, there was no question about who had caused her mood.

Deciding to risk it, he made his way there himself and knocked on the door. There was no reply. Trying the doorknob, he was surprised to find it unlocked and unwarded. Quietly, he pushed it open.

"Severus?"

He was sitting at his desk, eyes closed and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't bother to open his eyes.

"Turn around and leave the way you came."

Draco raised an eyebrow. He'd seen his godfather at his lowest moments before and in his experience, he was often easier to deal with then, than he was with his usual attitude.

He closed the door and took the empty seat opposite.

"Quite an achievement," he commented.

Severus opened his eyes, glowering at the younger Slytherin. "Excuse me?"

"I've thrown a good few insults at Hermione Granger over the years and I've never managed to piss her off as much as you obviously just did."

* * *

****

**A/N: **I truly hated leaving it so long to update- I've been unable to do any writing up or posting for over a week due to work being done in the room my computer is in and the net being disconnected for a while. It was seriously unanticipated. I'm going to attempt getting another chapter of I Don't Want To Be Alone sent to my beta soon if possible because I'll be away again from Monday. Flying to Turkey for a week. I'm worried about my inbox inevitably going to its limit with story notifications, junk mail and the like while I'm away, so I'll be posting a temporary e-mail address in my profile if anyone is going to e-mail me.

Also, I have started a new site and scrapped my old one. It's in very early stages at the moment, but feel free to take a look at it- www. geocities . com /sewerwalking

Don't miss me too much… grins On another note…I've been hypothesizing about the HBP all week…I love HP new book madness. If you don't know what I'm talking about, get yourself over to JKR's official site!

**Purplerebecca- **Don't worry about Draco…I couldn't let him be alone, now could I? Thanks for your review.

**Captain Oblivious**- Yes, explanation was a bit thin on the ground regarding the Marauders and Animagi. Crookshanks was under-used in my opinion too. But I loved Cuaron's direction. I'm looking forward to watching Mike Newell's interpretation of GoF next year. Thanks for reviewing. 

**Lady Pirates-** Thanks for the details and your review. The blindness wasn't exactly lasting; it was just a plot device for a while.

**Kaaera- **Well, we can safely say he has a clue now. Thanks for the review!

**Shadowkitten- **Thanks for your review. I enjoy writing his character.

**Claire Rickman- **I'm glad to hear it. My exams are done with now…have to wait till August for results though…I think I've got what I need for college. (I hope.) Thanks for the review.

**M'cha Araem- **I think Draco's rather amused himself now. Thanks for reviewing!

_**DistinctVagueness**_


	9. Chapter Nine

**Losing Sleep**

**By Distinct Vagueness**

****

**Chapter 9**

Severus watched the retreating back of his godson as the office door clicked softly behind him, before sighing and standing up. In well-rehearsed steps, he went to the small cabinet mounted on the wall and pulled out a glass and a decanter. The latter wasn't far from empty, so he poured the last of the amber liquid into his glass. Placing the decanter onto the desk, he made his way to the other door, pushing aside the curtain and muttering _"Nox"_ as he went.

Surrounded by the dim glow of candles and shelves of books, Severus closed his eyes for a moment. This, he knew, was his sanctuary. Pages and pages of willing knowledge, crisp between his fingers, and the warmth of his drink as he tipped the glass to his lips. It was strange sometimes, the way that his thoughts would slip away from here, even though they were always just waiting outside. Not tonight though. Tonight, Hermione Granger weighed on his mind.

He had only contemplated briefly on finding her within this room. It unsettled him that she hadn't broken the asylum he found here. He hadn't felt comfortable in here for a while after he had found Albus rooting around his Muggle collection, sucking on some infernal confectionary and claiming he was looking for 'a good mystery', so the thought of a student invasion had been unbearable. Miss Granger's presence, however, hadn't been an invasion. Niggling at his subconscious, a thought suggested that perhaps he had been simply waiting for her to discover this trove of texts, and more strangely, that he was prepared to accept it. Grudgingly, yes, but his reaction had only been so severe as to raise an eyebrow. He'd even allowed her to loan one of his collection for the weekend.

Was it because of how she'd undertaken to help him after returning from the Dark Lord? No. He hadn't known then and it was also before he'd arrived temporarily blind. So why hadn't he taken the usual route, scared her witless and doled out punishment?

Severus frowned, swirling his drink in his right hand. It would appear that he'd uncovered some sort of blind spot when it came to Miss Granger. It wasn't a good discovery. Weak areas soon became evident to those you least wanted to see. Weakness was easily exploited.

He took a sip and swallowed slowly, before moving to the leather chair in a corner of the room and sinking into it. It was possible he was taking this too seriously. Miss Granger wasn't a threat to his safety. She wasn't a spy, looking for flaws to expose in his character. She had dutifully followed his wishes in not informing Dumbledore of his condition that night, which had, he admitted now he knew, surprised him. Before now he would have expected her to go haring to the Headmaster or Minerva in such a situation.

She had surprised him.

Few people, let alone students had done so. Severus was generally right in his primary assumptions of them all. He could predict upon first glance which ones would be scratching their heads well into seventh year and constantly incurring his wrath, and the few who would follow his directions, managing to narrowly escape disaster somewhat satisfactorily.

Miss Granger was an exception and had been for some time now. For a few years, he'd written her off as sickeningly overeager in classes. One of those who sucked up and memorised knowledge like a sponge, until, inevitably, they were full and proved themselves as incapable of thinking independently. He had watched in amusement in her third year as she overexerted herself, arriving exhausted to his lessons, but still an exemplary member of the class. During her fifth year, the standard material in her essays began to change. There were the usual answers required, along with the extra rolls of parchments she always attached, but there began to emerge something different. Actually enjoying reading his student's work was a rarity for Severus, unless it involved guffawing over unbelievable stupidity, but with her essays, he often found himself absorbing her words with genuine interest. She brought something more than grasp to the subjects he taught. She presented her own perspective and supported it bravely against any critique he brought up. He'd found himself actually putting her homework to the bottom of the pile as something to look forward to, unconsciously 'saving the best for last'.

This uncharacteristic habit of his was precisely why he hesitated in pushing the girl aside, as he would with anyone else. Brow furrowed, Severus stood up and returned to his office and set the empty tumbler on his desk before taking a seat there. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a spare roll of parchment and a quill. Dipping the nib into a fresh bottle of black ink, he began to write.

-

At the Gryffindor table the next morning, Ron was looking on in amusement, and even Harry had a rare smile as they observed their female companion cut into a fried egg with unnecessary vigour. Her jaw set in a firm line of satisfaction as the yolk split, haemorrhaging orange, Hermione glanced up and frowned as she saw them watching her.

"What?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What did that egg ever do to you, Hermione?"

"Wh-…oh." Hermione realised what he was referring to. She hadn't actually intended to eat the egg in the first place; perhaps that was why she mutilated it. "Nothing. Just hungry, that's all." She punctuated her sentence by crunching into a piece of dry toast.

Harry and Ron's eyes remained trained on her, accompanied by small grins, until she gave them a good stare. It was only as they were finishing breakfast that their attentions were drawn back again.

A large eagle owl descended from the rafters and landed neatly on the Gryffindor table before Hermione. It held out its leg until she took the scroll attached there, and then proceeded to preen its feathers in an air of self-importance. It eyed a twittering baby barn owl on the Hufflepuff table rather disdainfully as it did so.

Her friend's watched as she slid a fingernail under the seal and began to read, carefully keeping it from their line of sight.

_Miss Granger,_

_It has come to my attention that my reaction to my unforeseen discovery last night was hasty. You have my assurance that my words were spoken from shock and also irritation at my own carelessness. I would prefer to discuss this matter in a calmer manner. We can do so if you would attend at your regular time this evening, forgoing your usual duties._

_I must ask you to retain your previous discretion, though I realise you don't need to be told._

_Professor Snape._

Hermione read the words twice, frowning slightly at first, but then relaxing. Though the words 'apologise' or 'sorry' were never mentioned, his letter had an as contrite tone as you could get from Professor Snape. She smiled slightly. His change in heart must have been quite dramatic or him to send this letter. She realised that she also felt quite relieved. Before last night, she had begun to see a different side of his dark, overbearing persona, and had unconsciously feared she might lose sight of it. She had liked the feeling that people _could _change, no matter what their reputation was.

She looked up to the High Table. Only a few teachers remained there, sipping at cups of tea or coffee, and Professor Snape was not one of them. Tucking the note into her pocket, she stood up.

"Finished?" she asked brightly, dodging Harry and Ron's identical curious glances.

-

"Reconciled yet?" said Draco in a low voice as he leant past her to pour the contents of a measuring tube down the sink.

Hermione glanced at him as she put her own equipment away. "What are you talking about?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I'm talking about Hurricane Hermione. Last night."

"Oh, that."

"He didn't mean it, you know."

"Didn't mean what?"

"Whatever he said to you. His best defence to shock is to churn out sarcasm."

"Yes, he said something along the same lines himself," answered Hermione, closing a cupboard door calmly and rinsing her hands.

"He did?" said Draco, looking bemused.

Hermione nodded. "Not that it's any of your business." She smiled shortly and headed in the direction of her desk. As she sat down, she realised that Ron's narrowed eyes were on her.

"What?" she asked, for the second time that morning.

"Nice little conversation you had there with Malfoy."

"Draco," she corrected, without thinking. "And your point is?"

Ron stared at her. "Since when are you on chatting basis with the ferret?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you really have to keep calling him that? It isn't necessary anymore."

"'Anymore'? Ron echoed. "Did something happen around here that I don't know about?"

Hermione sighed. "Look, he hasn't been the Draco Malfoy we used to know for a long time. He's also Head Boy, if you forgot, and it's my responsibility to get on with him."

"It's not your responsibility to have little chit-chats during Potions," the redhead persisted. The bell went during these words and the class began to put their things away.

The Head Girl fixed him with a glare. "Are you going to grow up anytime soon, Ron? If you didn't cling to first impressions so steadfastly, you might be able to see that people _change._ He's not a git, or a ferret, or a 'typical Slytherin', at least not anymore. If you have a problem with that, then it's just _that- your _problem. He's certainly behaving more maturely than you are right now, Ronald Weasley."

This was said with utmost equanimity, and as she hoisted her bag over her shoulder, she looked into the eyes of her silent friend and shrugged. As she made her way out of the classroom, she suddenly stopped, remembering what she'd meant to do since breakfast. Hermione turned and walked back inside, pushing past the other outgoing students. Professor Snape was examining some vials on his desk and placing them into a silver tray.

"Professor?"

Snape glanced up, at first irritated, but then his features seemed to cloud a little. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked around the room. A few students still remained, wiping desks or placing books back into their bags. "Seven o' clock, sir?"

The expression in his black eyes flickered a little. She'd obviously kept in mind the last line of his letter. He nodded shortly.

"Miss Granger," he said, dismissively.

She nodded in return. "Professor."

With that, she turned and left the room. Snape picked up the tray and also exited, but through the door that led to his office. Neither really noticed Draco Malfoy, who had been standing in the corner wiping away spilled ingredients from a work surface. But he wasn't pondering the brief exchange between his godfather and the Head Girl. In his mind, he was still going over the way he had just been described to Weasley. Without meaning to, a small smile spread across his face, giving a somewhat extraordinary light to his usually pale attributes.

-

Harry chewed his last forkful of meat and potato pie thoughtfully. The table was mainly quiet, since it was almost the end of lunchtime. Hermione wasn't present. She had wolfed down her own lunch and then retreated to the library. The only sound around him was his best friend, who seemed intent on ranting as loud and long as possible.

"…And then she tells me to grow up! Are you listening to me?"

Harry glanced at him. "Do I have to?"

It didn't seem that Ron had heard his response, however, as he continued on in the same fashion.

"I mean, Harry, come on. She was _smiling_ at him. I don't think there was that much to it, but still. The only reason she's ever been on speaking terms with that slimy little ferret is to exchange insults."

"I don't know, Ron. He hasn't said a word to me all year, except to ask me to pass him the pickled slugs in Potions once."

"Exact- what?" Ron broke off- apparently confusion had derailed him.

Harry shrugged. "Don't start thinking I'm defending him or anything, but Hermione's sort of right. He hasn't gone out of his way to insult us or anything for a good while now. Maybe- and I hate to say this- he has changed."

Ron began to shake his head. "And when exactly did you figure this out, Harry? When you were buried in the library somewhere? Or when you were holed up in our room?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about? Harry, since Christmas you've been acting like some kind of recluse. Even if I don't agree with Hermione on _some_ things, we are in agreement that you're not yourself anymore."

Harry stared at him. He opened his mouth, and then thought better of it, abruptly standing up. It was then he spoke. "I _am _myself, Ron. That's the problem."

"Is that you talking, or is that just self-pity?" Ron asked. From the expression on his friend's face, he appeared to have struck a nerve. Harry wasted no time in striding away from the table without another word.

Ron debated for a moment whether to go after him or not but then took a sip from his goblet instead. He had a feeling now wasn't the time.

-

Strangely, tonight didn't hold the feelings she'd had when requesting to assist him. Hermione felt oddly at ease as she walked through the entrance hall, down the stairs into the shadowy underbelly of the castle and then as she lifted her hand to knock gently on his door. There had been something about his nod in class today, and in his letter, that signified he had accepted she had shown him all her cards in this matter and was perhaps about to allow her a glimpse at his. That something held her back from apprehension. She hoped that if she could just listen to him, without any partake of her own, she might just gleam something from tonight's 'discussion' that would be helpful in her plan with Draco. But that was a particular card she was choosing to hold back from the cold exterior inside the office right now.

"Come in."

And so she did. Waiting for him to clear the pile of work on his desk to a drawer, she took the liberty of sitting across from him.

"Good evening Professor."

The drawer closed. "The same to you, Miss Granger. I do not wish to dally with pleasantries, however."

He folded his arms and sat back in his seat. When there had been uncomfortable silence for a few moments, Hermione began to wonder whether she had been supposed to say something. He saved her the trouble, however, as he began to talk.

"Miss Granger, the reason I was so quick in dismissing you last night wasn't just shock."

His black gaze levelled with hers. "It was anger."

When Hermione started to open her mouth, he continued. "There was a time, years ago, when I allowed myself to be naïve and remiss when I returned from the Dark Lord. It didn't occur to me that anyone who saw me, or attempted to aid me, would incur punishment for it. Followers of the Dark Lord are…disciplined when he saw fit and it was intended that you suffer the entire discipline, unrelieved by anyone, no mater what it was. Of course, I wasn't the only one to find help in some source if I incurred his wrath, but if he knew you sought help…"

He paused. Hermione knew what was coming next.

"She was just…a stranger, really." Snape glanced up at her. "Do you know the owner of The Three Broomsticks? Madam Rosmerta?"

Hermione nodded; the woman had served Butterbeers to herself, Harry and Ron countless times.

"Her niece, Petra. She had just begun to work behind the bar. A little older than you are, I suppose. One night, after a meeting, I foolishly went to the pub, rather than returning home. Petra served me. She noticed the slight blood on my cloak, and the tear in the sleeve. I allowed her to take me to a back room. She was convinced I was badly hurt and would have found help for me elsewhere if I had refused."

Hermione's eyes went to his hands as he was speaking. His long fingers were gripping the edge of the desk, taut, and white at the knuckles.

"I should have left the minute she saw I had been hurt. I would have done so even quicker, if I realised Lucius had trailed me after the meeting, on instructions from our master.

"But I didn't. And the last time I saw Petra, she was in the grasp of the Dark Lord. He'd taken her for me. A gift, he said, a plaything for my services to him." Snape gave a short, humourless laugh. "He knows the pain of being in the debt of someone. For his own reasons, he 'allowed' me to erase that debt."

Hermione stared at him with horror. "He made you…"

Snape looked at her with something akin to cold amusement before it disappeared abruptly. "I _never _wanted to be put in that position again. What I did that night…wasn't entirely coerced. I think there was even a point when I wanted her to suffer for her stupidity in trying to help me. I was furious with her for that moment of compassion.

"It wasn't long after that I went to Dumbledore and told him everything. That anger is one of my biggest fears. I _never,"_ he punctuated the word by suddenly slamming a fist onto the tabletop, "want to feel it again."

He exhaled tiredly, his head bowed and a lock of black falling before his eyes. "I've learnt my lesson. Anything I suffer is deserved."

Slowly, with bare awareness of what she was doing, Hermione allowed her own hand to slip across the table. Brown eyes focused on his closed countenance, her small fingers gently rested atop of his clenched fist.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. His head lifted slightly at her touch and she nearly shivered as his black eyes ran the trail from her hand to her own steady gaze. "I never knew." Her eyes dropped to the desk again as she felt his hand begin to relax under her own, their fingers entwined slightly. The silence that hung in the small room was palpable.

Snape felt his shoulders begin to tense, waiting for her to recoil in disgust and back out of his office. Instead, there was the sudden sensation of her stroking the back of his hand in small circles with her thumb. He dared to look back to her eyes.

She smiled slightly as she slowly released her hand. "But I'll still be here the next time you need me." Their eyes were still locked as she stood and back towards the door. Without another word, Hermione opened the door and stepped outside.

And as she walked back to the tower, none of her explanations seemed to justify the jolt in her stomach when she had held his hand.

* * *

**A/N:** I can't seem to win. I arrived back from Turkey, ready to start typing up and my computer decides to be affronted that I abandoned it for a week. I tried everything, pleading with it, bargaining with it and bribing it with extra memory. It seems to have settled down a bit now. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, it was great to come back and read your responses. I'm particularly eager to read them to this chapter and the last scene. Again, any lurkers out there- I'd like to know what you think of it. I'm not going to make promises on updates, as every time I do, something goes horribly wrong.

**Momsangel-** Rabid dog? Isn't it funny how threats to continue can make you feel good? Lol. Thanks for reading. 

**SerenitySedai- **Blushes at reviewThank you, you made my day with your lovely words**. **Again, I apologise for the wait- explained above. I'm very glad you found this fic, though, and that you're enjoying it.

**Celest-Wikit- **Hope you didn't get in trouble. Sorry about the cliffy, I hope this chapter satisfies you for a little while. Thanks for the review!

**M'cha Araem- **Glad you liked it. I was a bit undecided over rewriting that scene actually. Wasn't sure if it was convincing or not. Thanks for your review!

**Ezmerelda- **Lol. Quite chuffed that I made you laugh, if unintentional. You'll notice that not of my stories are under 'Humour.' Thanks for reading!

**Embattledcurve- **I'm sorry if I was unclear about the Paracetamol thing. I generally use it for headaches myself, and that would have been the intended use in the paragraph you referred to. The Dreamless Sleep Potion would be the sedative, not the Paracetamol. My writing's changed? Hmm. I guess it does that from time to time. I hope you still like reading it though. Thanks for your review.

**Captain Oblivious- **Tonks- me too! Lol. I guess it's the scene where she knocks over the umbrella stand that wins my heart :) Thanks for your review!

**Mariah Nerissa-** I'm a bit edgy about Harry in this fic too. Be assured that he will be altered a little before the end. I kind of needed him to be 'absent' for some parts, for later on. Mentioning Ramos- I think I've read what's posted of her Unfinished Business. She is a terrific SS/HG writer. I hope, even if I don't, she has you convinced to stick around. 

**_DistinctVagueness_**


	10. Chapter Ten

**Losing Sleep**

**By DistinctVagueness**

****

**Chapter 10**

"…Two pounds of lacewings, an ounce of powdered dragon claw and a litre of leech juice." Severus read before replacing the list of ingredients back into his pocket. The shopkeeper scurried about behind the counter, pouring various things into bags before packing everything into a large paper bag.

"Will that be all, Professor?"

Severus nodded. "Yes. Charge it to the Hogwarts account as usual."

"Will do. Have a good day."

Severus picked up the bag and turned to head out of the store.

"_Stupefy."_

He whipped around, his hand resting on his wand, ready to draw if necessary. He recognised the cloaked figure immediately, his mouth gaping slightly. The hand upon his wand slackened. He watched, almost in slow motion, as the surprised shopkeeper slumped out of sight to the ground.

_"Lucius?"_

The blond raised an eyebrow before sweeping the hood from his head and retreating to the back room. Casting a strong locking spell on the door, Severus followed him, a foreboding sensation deep in his gut.

"When did you get out?" he asked, as soon as they were safely out of sigh.

"Shortly after visiting times yesterday morning."

Severus studied the older man's face carefully. It was paler than he remembered, drawn.

"I'm assuming it would be foolish to ask if you were _let_ out," he said dryly. "So tell me, why hasn't the press had a field day?"

"Took a leaf out of Crouch's book. I was surprised to hear you weren't one of my rescuers, Severus."

"I was busy," he replied neutrally.

One corner of Malfoy's mouth turned upwards. "Though technically, you were more helpful than you realise."

"How so?"

"The poison you brewed for our Master should prove most successful."

At his words, Severus's heart dropped to his stomach but, as always, he maintained a cool façade. Before the last meeting, the Dark Lord had requested a small amount of _Tardo Mortis_, which translated literally, meant lingering, slow death. The poison, once ingested, lay hidden within the victim's veins for many hours, or even days. The symptoms leading up to death were lethargy, depression and a sickness comparative to the common cold. All recognised products of being incarcerated inside Azkaban. The magical properties of the toxin could invoke a sense of emptiness, and for a person, who wasn't in a particularly stable frame of mind already, could easily pass as a hollow shell. A typical description of an Azkaban inmate.

"May I enquire as to who received it?"

Lucius smirked, an expression of mirth, but it only served to stain his countenance. "Oh, I believe you know of her. Tall, blonde, adequate bed partner? Spends my money as if it's running out of fashion?"

Severus felt sick. It was clear now how the plan had been concocted. Narcissa Malfoy had been escorted to Azkaban to visit her husband, and had obviously had something to drink on the way. A man with any shred of decency in his body would never have allowed the charade to continue, subjecting his already unbalanced wife to the horrors of his prison cell. But Lucius wasn't one of those men. He'd obviously taken his dose of Polyjuice with pleasure, whilst taking advantage of her sluggish state of mind and pushing hers down her throat. It was a miracle the Dementors hadn't sensed the vindictive pleasure he doubtlessly emerged outside with. But not that big a miracle.

He'd never liked the tall, standoffish Narcissa Black. Her marriage to Malfoy had only worsened his opinion. They were the perfect couple. Neither had any discretion as to what it was they did when they left their home without the other, but public opinion was that they were a 'lovely, committed couple'. Severus wondered why Lucius had given her up so easily. She allowed him to pursue other women freely while constantly maintaining their perfect family image. He wasn't likely to find many other women in her mould.

His dislike of the distant and unfriendly woman however, didn't alter his disgust at what had occurred.

"I'm guessing that the potion will take effect some time tonight," Severus said, slowly, ignoring Lucius's last words. "I take it you have somewhere to conceal yourself?"

A slow smile spread across the blonde's face. "Our Master has agreed to take me in for now. It is necessary that I am in his presence anyway…for future events."

Severus raised an eyebrow in question.

Lucius continued, his voice lower than it had been. "He will be calling the next meeting a week from this Friday. My son is expected to attend."

Severus frowned. "Didn't he decide to wait until the boy had finished school?"

Lucius nodded. "His plans have changed. He wants more than one spy at Hogwarts before this year is out. He will be branded, it is a certainty. From the way he was speaking, it was obvious this is to be not just a meet-and-greet for Draco." He smiled again. "Being branded so early…this could mean great things for both I and my son." The look on his pale face neared rapture. Severus tried not to grimace, but failed.

"I have to warn you, Lucius, you may not be successful. Draco…well, this will be unexpected, to say the least, for him."

Lucius's mouth settled into a thin line and he leaned closer. "You will bring him, Severus. I will ensure he gets there, with or without your help or his. I am _not _going to stand by and watch as he openly defies the Dark Lord. Because if he does," his eyes narrowed as he stared into his companion's, "I won't be the only one blamed, if you catch my drift, Severus." He raised an eyebrow before sweeping his hood back over his face and Disapparating.

Severus remained staring at the floor where Lucius had just been standing for several long moments before leaving the shop himself. He needed to speak to Draco.

-

Ron joined Ginny at the bottom of the stairs. Both carrying their brooms, they made their way through the common room, passing Harry as they did so. The black haired boy was sitting in front of the fire, idly chewing the end of a quill as he read through his homework.

Ginny frowned as her brother continued towards the portrait hole without pausing. She stopped. "Coming out to the pitch for a bit with us before dinner?"

Harry glanced up at her, before looking in Ron's direction. "Not really a good idea. Self-pitying recluses don't tend to make good Quidditch players."

Ginny looked confused. "What are you on about?"

"Why don't you ask your brother? He certainly wasn't confused about what he was saying to me the other day."

Ron turned from the portrait hole; the tops of his ears reddening. "Look, Harry, if you'd _bothered_ to listen to what I was trying to tell you, you'd realise that you've got it all wrong. I was-"

"Wrong? Exactly what did I get wrong? Your choice of words?"

Ron's jaw tightened. "No. I meant what I said."

"Oh, you did?"

"The only reason you stalked off that day was because you know I'm right. If you'd just try talking to-"

"You're doing enough talking for the both of us-"

"-You'd see we're just trying to help-"

"How exactly was that helping?"

Harry had risen from his seat and Ron began to take steps across the room towards him.

"If you would just take the wall down for two seconds-"

"Wall? All I can see is someone who's supposed to be my friend attacking me for no good reason!"

"And all I can see is two seventeen year olds acting like they've just dropped ten years," broke in Ginny, yelling over their raised voices and staring incredulously at the pair who suddenly stopped. "Is somebody going to tell me what's going on?"

Only silence answered her. Harry turned his back on both of them. Ginny rolled her eyes and left the common room, brushing past her brother as she did so. Ron watched the motionless back of his friend for a few moments before following his sister. Harry only glanced over his shoulder when he heard the portrait click into place again.

-

"So, are you going to let Potter catch the Snitch again this year, or are you going to actually attempt it this time?"

Draco glanced up. "What?"

Blaise Zabini stood at the side of the couch, smirking. Pansy stood just behind him, one hand running the length of his sleeve before clasping his hand. Blaise took a seat in the armchair opposite, the blonde perching on his lap without invitation.

"Quidditch final's not far off," he said in reply. "Slytherin and Gryffindor are dead certs for it. So basically, everything depends on you catching the Snitch."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You do like stating the obvious, Zabini."

Blaise shrugged. "Just thought I'd remind you."

"Unnecessary." Draco went back to the book he was reading for History of Magic, fervently trying to ignore the hushed murmurings of the couple nearby. He gritted his teeth as Pansy let out a shrill giggle and gave the pair a very pointed glare. Blaise grinned as Pansy removed her head from his neck. Her hand remained firmly under his shirt. She smiled sweetly.

"Something wrong, Draco?"

"There will be, Miss Parkinson, should you continue to disgust both myself and the lower years with inappropriate behaviour in public."

Their Head of House stood behind them, arms folded and sneering. Pansy's hand slowly came back into sight.

"Mr. Malfoy, a word if you please." Snape turned and left the room via the portrait hole. With Blaise and Pansy watching curiously, Draco put his book down and followed him out.

His godfather led the way down the corridor to his office. He didn't speak a word until they were both inside and the door was firmly closed.

"Nobody's heard yet, but I daresay this won't be a huge surprise. Sit down."

Draco didn't sit. He frowned and scrutinised Snape's expression. The man's face was neutral but his eyes were darker than usual, if that were possible. "What's happened?"

Snape took a seat behind the desk. "I was in Hogsmeade a couple of hours ago, Draco. Just for the usual Potions supplies. I happened to run into someone I had hoped was far away from here."

Draco felt his stomach drop. There was no question about who it was. The older Slytherin's face said it all. He sat heavily in a chair. "How did he get out?"

Everything became a little worse when Snape lowered his eyes for a split second. He seemed to be considering how to put the answer.

"_How did he get out?"_ Draco persisted.

Severus sighed. "It seems that…his 'friends'…found a niche in the form of…your mother."

Draco swallowed, eyes fixed upon the desktop. "Dead?"

"Not yet. But-"

"She will be and there's nothing we can do about it." His voice was emotionless. He raised his eyes to his godfather's. "How did he do it? He couldn't have just switched places with her, he-" Draco broke off when Snape didn't try to correct him. He laughed hollowly, a strange sound in the otherwise silent room. "And why not? What was in the way? A sense of decency? Any humanity at all?"

"Draco-"

A knock on the door interrupted them.

"Yes?" answered Severus tersely.

The door leading to the Potions classroom slowly opened. Hermione came through it. "Professor, could you-" She stopped at the identical sombre expressions of the two Slytherins. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise…"

"You don't need to continue tonight Miss Granger. Just clean everything up and return to Gryffindor Tower."

Hermione frowned but went to leave the room. "…Yes, sir."

As her hand touched the door handle, Draco spoke quietly. "She can stay."

Snape looked at him, brow furrowed. "Draco, this isn't the time-"

"She can stay," the blonde repeated.

Completely puzzled, Hermione glanced to Snape again. "Sir?"

"You may remain, Miss Granger."

Hermione was still looking between the pair as she sat down in the only empty chair. Snape was watching his godson. He hadn't been entirely sure what reaction he would provoke by telling this news. Tears he hadn't expected; he knew that though Draco infinitely preferred his mother to his father, though he wasn't her greatest fan either. But this impassive expression wasn't something he knew how to deal with.

"Now what?"

Severus bridged his hands. "That depends on what you're referring to."

"What I'm referring to?" Draco stared at him, rising from his chair. "My father just got out of Azkaban! I can think of at least one thing he wants to see happen!"

Hermione eyes widened in shock. "What? When did he get out?"

Severus looked sharply at her, as if about to tell her exactly why it was none of her business. Something flickered behind his eyes and he answered simply, "Yesterday. Draco, sit down."

Eyes fixed on his godfather, Draco slowly lowered himself down again.

Snape exhaled slowly. There was no way to tell someone, let alone someone who was only just leaving childhood that they were being sentenced to a life of cruelty, deceit, and utter loyalty to a master who was little more than a power crazed madman. And if that loyalty was doubted, even unjustly, they would have to endure excruciating, slow pain, both emotionally and physically. There was no escape for a Death Eater.

So he said it as plainly as he could.

"You are to be taken to the Dark Lord a week from this Friday. You will be branded."

For a moment, it looked as though Draco would take this news as neutrally as before. Then he swallowed, his eyes drifting from his godfather, to the floor, and then back again. He shook his head.

"No," he said emphatically.

"Draco-" started Severus, but was cut off. Hermione was watching her unlikely friend, realisation dawning in her eyes.

The blonde jumped up from his chair. "_No!_ This isn't fair. This isn't _fair_!" One hand flew up to his hair, raking through it without purpose. He turned back to his godfather. "I didn't ask for this. I don't want this! Any of this!" He was yelling now. "Gods, he couldn't leave me alone even when he was in prison! What the hell am I supposed to do now that he's out? What plan that we can make is going to work now? _He_ is out there," he gestured forcefully at the door, "somewhere." Draco shook his head. "I might as well be resigned to it. What else am I good for?"

Severus held up a hand to silence him. "Draco…we have enough time to get you out of this predicament. Shouting and pleading defeat isn't your answer."

Draco laughed, exactly like before, though now, it had become edgier, grating. He leaned over the desk, glaring at Severus. "Why am I even talking to you?" he said, his tone low. "What the _fuck_ do you know about it?"

Silence reigned in the small room. Hermione stared down at her folded hands, feeling very much the intruder in this conversation. Draco straightened up, his jaw clenched. As he moved towards the door, Snape answered him.

"I was in your place with Lucius Malfoy a long time ago. I didn't emerge the better man for my decision because there's a difference between you and I, Draco. I gave up willingly. I could have refused straight away, or even backed out at the last second, but I didn't. I'm still paying for it now. I don't want you to ever be caught in that kind of debt, which is why I'm telling you that you still have a chance. Fine, there's a complication, but that only means we have to work around it."

At the door, Draco hesitated, as if about to speak. He quickly changed his mind and the office door soon slammed shut behind him.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. This was exactly the sort of reaction he had both been unwilling and expecting to receive. Draco couldn't afford to be rash or impulsive now, not if he wanted to consider the situation logically. But then again, this wasn't necessarily about logic.

"Professor."

Severus started at the young woman's voice. He'd entirely forgotten her presence opposite him. She looked concerned.

"I don't know why Draco wanted me to hear that…and I'm convinced I've only heard a portion of the story. I just…wouldn't take that personally, sir. Merlin knows, if you'd just told me what you told him…" She bit her lip. "I think I might know where he is, sir."

Severus rose from his chair slowly. "Yes, I'll have to find him."

"No."

He turned to Hermione, an eyebrow arched.

"I think he might want to talk to someone who, well, has no idea what being you feels like." She shrugged. "It's much easier to do when you're angry at the world."

Severus studied the girl for a few moments. "I don't follow your logic, Miss Granger. But perhaps you're right about this."

She nodded, moving to the door

"It's not as if you're ever right about anything else."

Hermione allowed a tiny smile to creep onto her face when she realised he wasn't really insulting her.

"I'll clear the classroom first, and then I'll find him. Goodnight sir."

"Goodnight, Miss Granger."

-

After clearing the classroom, Hermione made her way along the dungeon corridors. Light was sparse and it was no wonder she smacked straight into a person heading her way. Recovering quickly, she lit her wand using _Lumos_ and peered through the dark at who she had bumped into. After thinking for a second, she recollected his name.

"Blaise, right?"

"I'm not anything to you, Mudblood," he sneered at her, but it was decidedly weak; he glanced over both his shoulder and around her while doing so. He was up to something, she could tell. He shoved an empty brightly coloured sweet bag into his pocket.

"Yes, well, I suggest you make yourself scarce before the _Head Girl_ makes something of you," she answered, drawing herself up.

Blaise took in the hand resting on the pocket where her wand most certainly lay. He hurried past her, making sure to knock her shoulder as he did so.

Hermione sighed before continuing. "Some things never change."

-

Draco kicked a stone absently against a wall of the Astronomy Tower. The sound reverberated into the otherwise quiet night. He realised this was supposed to be the point where he reflected deeply on his possible future. But he couldn't. To tell the truth, he couldn't. He pissed off. Pissed off at his godfather for telling him exactly what he had been expecting, at his mother for allowing herself to fall into what no honest person could call a life and for allowing her husband to use her as yet another disposable pawn in his alliance with Voldemort, and mostly he was seething with abhorrence for his father. Lucius Malfoy, who used his money and his mind to manipulate anyone within his reach. And those who weren't. He'd remained a lingering threat to Draco even when behind bars. Those bars were now removed.

There was a sudden noise from the tower stairs; a stone skittering from step to step. Draco turned slightly, his eyes narrowed. His hand snaked into his pocket to retrieve his wand, but he frowned as his fingers closed on something papery and slightly sticky. He pulled it out in confusion. A toffee wrapper. Funny. He couldn't remember eating one of those lately.

Footsteps caused him to look away and into the eyes of Hermione Granger.

They were the last things he saw before there was a stomach-churning tug somewhere around his navel.

Without warning, Draco vanished.

* * *

**A/N:** Just give me a few moments in which I can scream in frustration. I have lost it with this lemon of a machine. Take this for example; a few days ago, in the space of 2 days, I could only use it for 20 minutes. For once, I'm not lying when I say I've been writing every time I turn it on. It's taken me almost a week to write this, along with I Don't Want To Be Alone.

So, finally, here it is. I can't promise when the next one will be typed up, so please bear with me. I appreciate everyone's reviews, thanks for taking the time to do so.

**SerenitySedai- **You're too kind. I'm glad you like this so far. I hope this makes up for the wait. Thanks for the review!

**Ezmerelda**- Draco's been a good boy thus far. He deserves it. Thanks for reviewing!

**Purplerebecca- **I did have fun in Turkey, very hot though. Lol- I re-read the 'shrug' part and I see what you mean. The silent friend was Ron.

For the ending scene last chapter- I did consider it before I made it final, but I decided that's how I wanted him to come out with it. He was aiming to shock, and therefore scare her off, and what's more shocking than the truth? Her holding his hand threw him off, and he is beginning to see that it isn't too easy to deter a Gryffindor. Hope you enjoyed this instalment, thanks for your review!

**Ennui CC- **I'm glad you haven't given up hope on SS/HG. If you haven't discovered it before, I seriously recommend Ashwinder (search Google.) Lots of realistic and addictive fics available there. Thanks for your review, it made me smile.

**_DistinctVagueness_**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Losing Sleep**

**By DistinctVagueness**

****

**Chapter 11**

Mud and rain-soaked grass met his hands and knees as Draco fell to the ground. Wary, he immediately jumped to his feet and plunged his hand into his pocket for his wand. What had just happened flooded into harsh reality as he discovered he was wandless. Someone had obviously stolen his wand and replaced it with a Portkey.

Trying to fight off the first stirrings of panic, he rotated slowly on the spot, trying to discern where he had been transported. Only darkness and the gentle swishing of nearby trees in the wind greeted him. The ground was soft, and mostly thick mud. The second time Draco stumbled, he decided to try something he'd only done a few times. Outstretching one arm, he closed his eyes and took a breath. He imagined the first glittering of light in his chest, then spreading along his arm, enveloping it completely, before he spoke clearly, "_Lumos."_

Slowly he opened his eyes. He would have grinned had it not been in this situation. A yellow flame danced in his palm. Releasing it, he allowed it to travel before him, lighting his path.

He had only taken a few steps when a low voice chilled his insides.

"Now I know why your father promoted your ability so."

Draco froze. There was no doubt as to whom the voice belonged to. Was there any point in running now?

Now, far brighter than his own small attempt, light flooded the clearing before him, and ironically, diminished all Draco's hopes that he hadn't just walked into a trap. The glow illuminated the cold metal of silver masks and, Draco swallowed, unearthly, gleaming eyes.

As he stood there, trying to think, another pair of eyes caught his. Blue ones, almost identical to his own. The caveat written there was clear. Taking a breath, he walked to the 'man' at the centre of the clearing and knelt, bowing his head.

"Master."

* * *

Hermione only remained in the Astronomy Tower moments before turning and racing down the steps. She reached the bottom and hurtled on. As she took the steps in the entrance hall two at a time, she smacked headlong into Susan Bones.

Not bothering to apologise, which left the Hufflepuff prefect looking rather hurt, she ran towards the dungeons and was soon rapping loudly on Professor Snape's door.

Seconds later, the door flew open. The Potions Master's face was like thunder. "How dare you disturb-" he stopped. The Gryffindor was looking unusually distressed. "Miss Granger?"

Taking a clandestine glance over her shoulder, Hermione brushed past him. Severus closed the door. "What-"

"It's Draco. He- I'm not sure- I think it was a Portkey," she said breathlessly. "I'd just gone up the stairs to the tower, he had…I think it was a sweet wrapper in his hand. And then, he just…he just disappeared."

"Sweet wrapper?"

"Yes, he…" Hermione's face fell. "Oh gods…Blaise Zabini…"

Severus's brow furrowed in confusion. "Zabini?"

Hermione nodded, more to herself than Severus. "After I left, I bumped into him outside. He had an empty Honeydukes packet."

At Severus's look of realisation, Hermione caught on. She gasped. "It was a Portkey to-" She stared at him. "You said that-"

Her professor's face had tightened. He was shaking his head. "_Idiot_," he muttered to himself. "It was _Lucius, _you absolute _fool."_

"He purposely misled you?" She took his silence as a yes. "I always thought he was, well, your friend."

Snape met her eyes. "You should learn, Miss Granger, that some people only extend themselves in _friendship_ when it suits their agenda." He lifted his head, and took his cloak from a peg by the door. "You will show me where it happened."

Hermione followed him out of the door and along the corridor. She fell into step with him as the neared the dungeon steps.

"Are you going to go after him?"

"We'd have to find him first," was his only reply. In her anxious state of mind, Hermione failed to notice the pronoun he had used.

When they reached the Astronomy Tower, Hermione crossed to the spot she'd seen Draco last.

"He was here…holding the wrapper…he saw me, and then he disappeared."

Severus took out his wand. "_Inverio Magus"_

From his wand flew a shower of green sparks. They glittered in the air for a few moments before settling on the place Draco had vacated. Severus exhaled in frustration.

"What's wrong?" Hermione knew how to perform the spell, but as she'd never needed to perform it, she didn't know how to discern the results.

"This hasn't helped…it simply informs us that magic was used here lately, which we already know. His wand must have been taken beforehand."

"What?"

"The locator spell clings to the magical residue that remains when a wand's owner Apparates or uses a Portkey. If the person missing is without a wand, then it is often impossible to locate said person without other information. Which we don't have."

"Yes we do," said Hermione suddenly. "Blaise. You could-"

Severus laughed. It was short and without humour. "Surely you can guess who told Blaise to carry this out?"

"But-"

"I am supposed to firmly believe that Draco's 'appointment' with the Dark Lord is not for over a week. If I question Zabini over this, surely you can guess that that news will travel quickly? Such action may be seen as concern for him. Neither Draco nor I can risk that."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

"You shouldn't have to."

Silence.

Hermione sighed. "What do we do now?"

"We wait."

* * *

Draco tried not to recoil in disgust as Lucius came forward in a fatherly embrace. He allowed something like amazement in his eyes to shine as they parted.

"Father…but…when?"

Lucius shook his head. "That isn't important, son. What is important is that I'm free and, though perhaps more covertly, am able to support my Lord through times such as these."

"Why didn't Aunt Bella tell me?"

Lucius smiled slightly. "Bellatrix has took more than one risk in my favour before now. Besides, your friend Blaise was more than willing to assist in giving you the news."

Draco felt fury rising up inside at the name, mentally storing it for later.

Voldemort, who was watching in interest from his seat, suddenly spoke. "Where is Bellatrix?"

One of the robed figures came forward. He removed his mask and lowered his hood. Rodolphus LeStrange. "She begs your pardon, master, but she has remained at home tonight. Her sister was loyal to our cause and will be mourned by each of us."

Many of the Death Eaters lowered their heads. Draco felt sick at their response. He wondered how many were grinning behind their masks. In his opinion, anyone who willingly became a part of this circle declined his or her humanity. There were too few who would genuinely grieve for Narcissa Malfoy.

Draco could feel the Dark Lord's eyes on him. He had to keep up the pretence of shock, though the emotions that went with it weren't false.

"Sister?" he said slowly. "But Andromeda-" He stopped, his shoulders noticeably sagging. His father rested a hand upon his shoulder.

"Her sacrifice was a noble act. I would not be standing here today if she hadn't given her life."

_'Given? Given?'_ screamed Draco's inner voice_. Why couldn't you have just rotted in your cell the way you were supposed to, you bastard?_

"Do not mourn, Draco. Tonight is to be life-changing for you."

Draco looked up at his father, frowning. As he opened his mouth, he felt the Dark Lord's presence behind him. It enveloped him, nauseatingly and suffocating. He swallowed.

"It's time to join us."

"Who do you abhor and reject?"

Draco's jaw stiffened. "All that lives without pure blood."

"Do you associate with Muggles or Mudbloods?"

"Not willingly."

"Do you reject the teachings of Albus Dumbledore on the purity of blood?"

"Yes."

"Who is superior?"

He swallowed. Something told him that this was a trick question. "You are," he replied.

Some of the Death Eaters chuckled. Voldemort smirked approvingly. "You're quick, I'll give you that.

"Do you pledge allegiance to me, alone among magic-wielders?"

"Yes."

"From this night, what is your purpose in all you do?"

"To follow your command and example in purifying my race."

Those red eyes watched him closely as he answered the questions. Draco fought to rid his mind of any incriminating thoughts.

"Prepare," he said to one robed figure. The one ordered to do so set about placing something in the fire that blazed nearby.

"His mind is sound, but I wish to test it with a little endurance. Wands," he commanded the rest. "Spells of choice, I think."

Draco felt fear stirring in him, but that was all forgotten in a blurry of pain. From all sides, curses and jinxes were thrown at him, wracking him excruciatingly. It must have only been minutes, but as he slumped to the ground, Draco felt as if he'd been subjected to open fire for hours. He struggled to get to his feet but only managed to do so unsteadily. He was shaking from the lingering effects.

Before he had time to recover, there was a quiet voice. "It is ready, Lord."

And then his left arm seethed in agony. White-hot iron was pressed to his flesh relentlessly. He heard another, more vindictive voice, speaking words he couldn't discern before blacking out completely.

* * *

"…They will brand him," answered Albus. The twinkle that had greeted Severus upon his entrance was destroyed. He paused in his pacing.

He nodded. "There seems to be no other reason, Albus."

"Why would Voldemort plant such a clear sign of his presence on the arm of someone under my eyes? Now, of all times. It is extremely uncharacteristic, even for him."

Severus shook his head. "I wouldn't stake anything on that hope. He knows that we are well aware of his increasing strength."

"But to place another follower in Hogwarts. That is a dangerous move."

"Not necessarily, if you go by his belief that I have remained in residence here so many years without suspicion."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed before he sighed and shook his head. "If you are sure that this will be Voldemort's action tonight, what do you propose we do about it?"

Severus's eyes studied the grounds through the Headmaster's office window. "Before we discuss anything, we should wait for Draco to be present." He turned. "He has been introduced to something I hoped to keep him from. Anything regarding his future will be considered in his presence. It depends on what he wishes to do. Whether he refuses to return to the Dark Lord, which will probably result in his demise, no matter what you or I do, or whether he chooses to take up the charade, in other words, becoming yet another source for you."

"This is not the life I would have chosen for you or Draco," said the Headmaster sadly.

Severus frowned. "It was not your decision. We have hashed over this countless times, Albus. My teenage stupidity put me where I am today, nothing else. Draco has not fallen into Lucius's web the way I did."

Dumbledore was silent for a few moments, his enduring face preoccupied. "We will await Draco," he said finally. "We must ensure that nobody else knows of these events except ourselves. Certain Slytherins will have to be deal with of course, but as long as you are the only one who saw Draco's departure, then-"

He stopped at the expression on Snape's face.

"I did not say that I was that witness," he said.

"Who then?"

"Miss Granger."

Dumbledore exhaled slowly before frowning. "And she came to you with this particular piece of information?"

Severus decided to dispose with the fact that she had good reason to go straight to him. "Herm- she…came across me just after she saw him leave. I believe she was on her way to you or Minerva."

"Where is she now?"

"I left her in my office."

"I will need to speak with her."

Snape shook his head. "Unnecessary. I have spoken to her. She will feel no urge to run to Potter or Weasley with this information."

Dumbledore looked unhappy but accepting. "Then please ensure she returns to Gryffindor Tower safely, Severus. Tonight, we must watch for Draco's return. I would prefer Miss Granger not to be a witness to the unpleasant discussion that follows."

"I will."

Dumbledore turned his troubled face towards the window. "Goodnight Severus."

Severus left the room. Currently, the Headmaster's command stood as good as any. He had foolishly allowed her to be present as he told Draco of his father's plans. He had no wish to involve another in any of this.

As he approached his office door, Severus hesitated, his resolve shaky. The girl had proved herself to be discreet and helpful. He'd expected a barrage of questions the moment he showed himself to be even slightly appreciative of her help, but none had came. She had gone about assisting him as usual, never prying. But though she was silent, she was always unmistakeably _there._

It was an odd feeling and it had begun the night she had listened to what was supposed to be a horror story bent on driving her and any curiosity away. After she had left that night, he had sat a good while in his chair, still and trying to analyse her response.

Severus suddenly felt very unsettled. He was ready to allow Her- Miss Granger to remain, to witness exactly how Draco was to return. He gritted his teeth and pushed the door open.

Hermione sat in the chair beside his desk. At his entrance, she jumped up.

"Professor! Have you-"

"It is very late, Miss Granger," Snape began stiffly.

Hermione stopped, looking confused.

"I will escort you back to your House."

She stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"The Headmaster has made it very clear that you should not be involved in all of this."

She arched an eyebrow, looking uneasily like himself. "And you agree?"

"This should not concern you, Miss Granger."

Hermione felt utterly mystified. One moment he was allowing her assistance, the next he had firmly fixed on his cold exterior and was telling her she was no longer needed. It stung a little more than she had expected it to. But with hurt, came her usual stubbornness.

Hermione sat back down. She stared up at him defiantly. "Well, like it or not, it does."

"Miss Granger-"

"What? What exactly are you going to do?" she said sharply. "If you kick me out, I'll just as patiently sit outside."

She tensed, waiting for him to shout and growing uneasy under his steadfast eyes. Exhaling slowly, he spoke again. "It would be better for you to listen to me. You don't understand-"

He broke off as she jumped to her feet again, her brown eyes fixed tightly to his own. "_I _don't understand? I think you're the one who doesn't _understand! _There is no way you're going to push me off to bed as if nothing's happened- I have to know that he's come back!"

"Hermione!" Despite the use of her first name, Snape's voice was sharp. "I have no intention of treating you like a child. Merlin knows, you've proved you aren't one. I just don't want you to be involved here. The less you know, the better for you. This entire situation is-"

"What?" Hermione snapped. "Unpleasant? Scary? Life-threatening? I've been there and done that every year since I came here." She lowered her tone. "Draco…he's like a friend now. I need to know what's happened to him. Even if that means waiting a long time." The expression on her face was fervent and determined.

Severus studied her mutely for a moment. Then he nodded. "You may stay, Miss Granger. But know that it was intensely against my preference."

Hermione sat slowly back down. "Thank you," she said, head lowered.

"I will be in the storeroom if you need me."

Severus retreated from the room, entering his classroom. He felt slightly guilty for disobeying the Headmaster, but wasn't about to make further effort to extricate her from his office. He took a key from his pocket and unlocked the storeroom door. He was soon sorting through ingredients and failing at his attempt to alleviate his concerns.

* * *

Draco coughed as he came to. His eyes opened slightly, only to see the stones he was lying upon. Rolling over, his eyes met the darkness above. Recollections began to flood back to him and he groaned, hoping that this was just an incredibly unpleasant dream.

"It's about time," came his father's cutting voice.

Draco closed his eyes again momentarily before struggling into a sitting position. Pain raged all along his left arm, and he winced. He made to pull up the sleeve of his robes.

"I wouldn't do that around here if I were you," answered Lucius sharply. "Now get up. You were nearly an embarrassment tonight. All that screaming… get up!"

Clutching his arm and staggering to his feet, Draco faced his father.

Lucius shook his head in disdain. "Pathetic." He came closer. "You will go to bed and wake up in the morning as usual. You will give no sign to anyone of what happened last night. Least of all Snape. You will be contacted when the Dark Lord requires you. Understand?"

Draco nodded, wordless.

"Get inside. And let go of your arm," he hissed. "You should be proud to wear the mark of our Master. Your mother had doubts…you know where she is now."

His cold blue eyes ran critically over him for a moment. Then, taking a surreptitious look over his shoulder, he Disapparated.

Draco stood there for a few moments, before turning and lifting his feet numbly in the direction of the castle.

* * *

When he couldn't distract himself anymore, Severus replaced the last jar back onto its shelf and opened the door. He turned the key in the lock as he closed it and made his way back to the office. Quietly, he opened the door. He opened his mouth to speak, and then fell silent.

Hermione was slumped in the chair, eyes closed and her head falling forward. For one paralysing second, Severus misinterpreted the scene. Then, as he saw her chest steadily rise and fall, he relaxed, realising she had simply fallen asleep.

He was amused to see that she still bit her lip even in sleep.

"Miss Granger."

The brunette gave no sign of consciousness. Unsure what to do, Severus continued to watch her. She shivered in her sleep. Glancing around, he saw that the fire had gone out. Frowning and with a flick of his wand, it blazed again. Then, without totally comprehending his actions, he took off the robes he had been wearing. Draping it gently over her form, he took a seat of his own. He didn't blame her for falling asleep; his own eyes were drooping in fatigue.

The flames dancing in the fireplace reflected upon her face, revealing slight hints of gold in her now tousled hair. Funny, he mused, it didn't look so bushy or uncontrollable from here. He wondered what it would be like to touch, to perhaps run through his fingers…

Severus shot up in his chair, eyes widening. _No, no, no… _was all his startled mind could manage.

His thoughts were broken into by a soft noise on the other side of the door. It sounded like someone was knocking with barely any effort. Exactly the way students knocked when it was time for detention, hoping against hope that he would not hear them. Except, it was far too late for any student…

Severus rose quickly from his seat. He pulled open the door.

Draco stood there. A small bruise on his cheek was beginning to show itself and he was clutching his arm to his chest. Severus froze at the look of uncharacteristic fear on Draco's face.

"It hurts," he whispered.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, your good luck must have worked because my computer is co-operating…well, sort of. Been busy this week with exam results and college enrolment. I start college on Thursday so I have no idea how my workload is going to look soon. I promise to update whenever possible though. Please see my profile about a message regarding 'I Don't Want To Be Alone'. Have to go now- have an unpleasant dentist appointment approaching. Thanks for everyone's reviews!

**KeithUrbanFan- **Waldo? Is that the American version of Where's Wally? Glad you like the way I'm beginning things with them. Thanks for the review!

**Wackoramaco87-** Thanks for the review! Musjids? Religious buildings? Hmm. Well, where I was (Bodrum), there were a few mosques around which were interesting to see- very old. You'd hear the prayer bells a lot during the day too. I'll see if I can find a picture of an old church inside the castle there for you. There was also a wicked Trojan Horse replica thing outside. Thanks for the review!

**Captain Oblivious- **Agreed! I say we attack it with houmous! QuickEdit will never see it coming… sorry, been watching a lot of classic Buffy lately…thanks for your review. I promise I'll hop along to your Traveller updates ASAP.

**Kerichi-** Enjoying your new fic so far- your take on Blaise Zabini is definitely interesting. I recommend everyone goes to check it out if you like any Draco/Ginny. Thanks for your review!

**Rurouni Star- **Thank you- I'm taking the story slow because I don't want to miss any details. Thanks for your review.

**Embattledcurve-** Er…fainting toffee?

**SerenitySedai- **Merci, mon amie. Sorry about the cliff-hanger…but well…yeah, I admit, I like to torture you.

**_DistinctVagueness_**


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Losing Sleep**

**By DistinctVagueness**

**Chapter 12**

Hermione awoke to the crackling of the fire, as a spark shot from the flames and disappeared just as instantaneously. She blinked sleepily, before recollection came rushing back to her and she bolted to her feet, grasping the material that had been placed carefully over her, tightly between her fingers. She frowned to find the room vacated and silent. Surely if Draco had returned…

The door to the right of Snape's desk opened without warning and the resident himself entered the room. The obvious question in the Gryffindor's eyes took him aback for a second before his face settled back into the pattern it had adopted over the last few weeks, and more recently, tonight.

"Draco-"

"In my rooms. He's asleep, finally. As you should be too, Miss Granger."

Defiance arose in her expression before she saw the look on his face. Snape wasn't displaying his usual attitude to her constant questions, on the contrary; he looked too tired to make a scathing remark tonight.

"If it's not too much trouble, Miss Granger, please take yourself back to your dormitory."

Caught between looking at the door he was asking her to take and the one she urgently wanted to go through, she looked back at her professor, slightly uneasy at his wary appearance.

"You're sure…he's…there's nothing…"

"There's nothing you can do now, Miss Granger. I'm asking you to take some rest so I have one less thing to concern myself over."

Severus hardly expected the girl to do what she did next. Hermione nodded quietly and made her way to the door. Before slipping through it, she turned back to him.

"Please tell him…I was here."

It was only after he nodded in acquiescence and she'd closed the door, that they both suddenly realised she was still clutching the robes he'd covered her with that night. Severus stood still, his brow creasing, before retreating to his rooms, his door shutting firmly behind him.

Passing through his candlelit sitting room, he entered the bedroom, his gaze falling upon the figure lying under the green sheets. Draco's body twisted slightly in his sleep as he murmured incoherently, his face pained.

Severus felt his jaw clench and his hand tighten into a fist. Trying to push his anger away, he ensured that the Slytherin was as settled as was possible under the circumstances and left the room without a sound.

Once he'd sank down into the large armchair that dominated the room, his head came to rest in his hands, fingers tangled in his drooping hair. Having it happen to him in the first place was one thing. Having it happen to someone else that you actually gave a damn about, was entirely another.

Contrary to popular thought, Severus hadn't been at the top of his game after his own branding. He had retreated to his potions at day and books by night, desperately trying to stop the uncharacteristic tears that stung his eyes, far worse than the pain that wracked his arm. He had been deeply ashamed, considering himself weak and a useless piece of equipment in the Dark Lord's plan. That was until foolishness took over again and he allowed himself to be led back into Voldemort's clutches by Lucius Malfoy. He might as well of cried, he thought, years past. Behaving like a child was far better than being led willingly into never-ending regret.

He had been a child, Severus reflected.

And so was Draco. That fact was painfully obvious to him now. Had it been so excruciatingly clear to Dumbledore, who had watched him fall into an eternal trap?

Severus gritted his teeth again. Too often had the elderly Headmaster believed firmly in the theory that learning from your mistakes was the best lesson of all. Some mistakes were avoidable….if he had just taken a more active part in the quiet, pale Slytherin's life all those years ago, shown him that he could trust his gut feelings…

But it was too late for that.

All he could do now was hope he could learn enough from his own past to stop Draco falling into the same mistakes.

* * *

"Not hungry?"

Hermione jerked upwards at the sound of Ginny's voice behind her. She tried to smile brightly.

"Just deciding what to have." She mustered up some interest in scanning the breakfast dishes laid out before them. She chose the easiest thing to wolf down.

"Can someone pass the toast please?"

The two Gryffindors nearest to the toast rack were Ron and Harry. The pair eyed each other before reaching for the rack at the same time and then abruptly drawing their hands. They resumed silently glowering into their own loaded plates.

Hermione sighed and stretched across the table to take a piece. Choosing to have it dry, she took a large bite.

"So where were you last night?"

Hermione choked on her toast, sending crumbs flying across the table. Ginny had to give her a few hard slaps on the back before she began to breathe normally again. She raised an eyebrow.

"So?"

"So what?" the Head Girl answered covertly.

Ginny frowned. "I was wondering where you were last night."

"I was doing some work in the Potions classroom for Snape…didn't I tell you?"

Ginny shrugged. "I guessed that, but, Hermione…I waited up until twelve for you before going to bed. Surely he didn't keep you that long, did he?"

Ron paused for a second before shovelling a forkful of baked beans into his mouth.

"Of course not," the brunette answered calmly, taking another bite of toast.

"Then where were you?" Ginny persisted.

"I said I'd do a patrol of the corridors before I went back up to the tower."

"Wasn't Susan doing it last ni-"

"Oh, for goodness sake, Ginny. Do you have to give me the third degree? It really isn't any of your business." Hermione snapped, and dropped her half-eaten toast onto her plate. "I'm not hungry. Ron, Harry, I'll see you in Potions." With that, she grabbed her bag and hurried out of the Great Hall.

Once she reached the entrance hall, Hermione slowed her steps, mentally chastising herself for her reaction to Ginny's curiosity. Now she would ask more questions than ever. She shook her head, almost imperceptibly.

"There was a time I could keep my mouth shut," she murmured as she descended the dungeon steps, speeding up a little as she reached the bottom.

* * *

The Headmaster closed the door to Severus's bedroom softly.

"He is unwilling to speak to me as well, it appears," he told the professor in a low tone. "I suggest we give it some more time before we push the events of last night from him."

"In all due respect, Headmaster, how much time do you think we have?" snapped Severus, forgetting to lower the volume. "It's going to look far too suspicious, and not just to his classmates, if he simply 'disappears' for a few days."

Dumbledore gave him the solemn, all-knowing look that he was ready to erase with force. "Severus, we mustn't be rash-"

"Rash," Severus repeated hotly. "Rash? There is at _least_ one person in this school able to report back to Lucius at the drop of a hat on the activities of both Draco and me. It'll be obvious where the boy is and it won't just be my head on a platter, do you realise that? And you think I'm being _rash?_"

Dumbledore sighed. "This is not the time to discuss this. Will after dinner give you enough time to clear your head and debate this matter calmly?"

Severus's hand twitched and he didn't reply, biting back the sharp reply that tugged at his lips.

His employer nodded. "I understand your urgency to confirm the security of both yourself and young Draco, but you forget the years that stretch between you. Any action you are willing to take to end all of this is not necessarily one he is able to handle yet. I will see you tonight Severus."

Looking grave, Albus retreated from the room, his brow furrowed and the creases in his old skin strikingly obvious.

* * *

Hermione steadied herself as she came round the corner, just falling short of walking straight into the Headmaster.

"Oh, Professor Dumbledore, I'm sorry, I was just-"

Dumbledore gave a small smile. "With prior knowledge, Miss Granger, I think I can make a guess at what where you were heading?"

Hermione opened her mouth in response but then closed it again. "I-"

So Dumbledore had discovered what had happened to Draco the previous night. She wasn't entirely surprised. The elderly wizard's voice broke into her thoughts.

"The time is moving on swiftly this morning, Miss Granger. Might I suggest you head the way of your Potions classroom instead?" He offered her his arm, in order to steer her in the opposite direction.

Hermione hesitated. She had been tortured enough the previous night, for not having the chance to ensure with her own eyes that Draco was safe within the castle.

"Now isn't the right time for enquiries, Miss Granger. You have my assurance that you will be able to see him later."

Looking resigned to his words, Hermione took the Headmaster's arm and headed the way of the dungeon classrooms.

Ron stood a little way down the same corridor, concealed by the bust of an old school resident, slightly disappointed that Dumbledore didn't state the reason for her whereabouts. He, however, had a conjecture beginning to form in his mind. And he didn't at all like the direction it was taking. Eyes narrowed and jaw tense, he grabbed his bag and headed after her.

* * *

Hermione sat apprehensively on her stool as she watched Professor Snape glance around the room before beginning the lessons. His beetle-black eyes fell upon the only empty seat.

"Where is Mr. Malfoy?" he enquired of Blaise Zabini.

The young Slytherin hesitated for a second too late before shrugging. "Haven't seen him," he replied nonchalantly, meeting Snape's eyes head-on. Nearby, Pansy watched her boyfriend with narrowed eyes.

"Is he ill?"

"I don't know, Professor."

Raising an eyebrow, Snape remained for a second before returning to his desk. "You should all know what you're doing. I suggest you get to it."

A minimal level of talk filled the classroom as parchments were taken out and cauldrons set up. When Hermione left the table to find some equipment, Ron turned to Harry.

"Look, I'm sorry about before, alright? It wasn't my place."

"No, it wasn't," answered Harry shortly. He proceeded to ignore the redhead.

"Stop being a prat."

Harry looked up at the mixed look of apology and humour on his friend's face. Ron raised his eyebrows in question.

"Come on, mate, don't leave me hanging." At the mock serious expression, which looked so out of place on Ron's face, Harry felt his lips twitched. He gave a genuine grin.

Ron felt a wave of relief rush through him. He had in no way put aside his thoughts about Harry's behaviour of late, but now wasn't the time to discuss it. They had a more important issue to face. He leant a little closer.

"Listen, we need to talk about Hermione…"

When Hermione returned to the table she found Harry doubled over in silent laughter. While she was amazed at his sudden turn of mood, she was puzzled as to the reason. A red-faced Ron sat with his arms folded, looking rather cross.

"It's not a laughing matter," he said stiffly. "Harry, I'm _ser- _Hermione!"

The brunette raised an eyebrow. "What's so funny? Share the joke."

Both boys remained hushed, eyes on the table. It seemed Harry was about to speak before Ron shot him a warning glance. She rolled her eyes. Maybe the pair not speaking to each other had its good points. Such as not having to be out in the dark during on of their 'inside' jokes. Being the girl of their group wasn't always a good thing. Shaking her head, but pushing down a small smile, she continued with her work.

Severus watched the little exchange from across the room, as he emerged from his office and strode to the front. Strange. He hadn't seen Potter so animated in weeks and he'd practically been as cold as ice towards the Weasley boy lately. There was no doubt what they'd fallen out over, he knew. Turned out, Weasley had more than one brain cell in that head of his.

It hadn't been just Potter to suffer a change of personality due to foreboding. He'd noticed it in the staff too. Minerva had often cast an unusually concerned eye over her three precious Gryffindors, and Dumbledore, though he attempted not to show it, had all of his interests built upon Potter, causing him to become slightly blind to other issues in the school. He bit back a scowl. Potter would have suffered further in his years at Hogwarts had he been a Slytherin, he guessed. No matter what he claimed, in Severus's opinion, Albus Dumbledore was the master of unbridled favouritism.

He glanced at the small clock that sat on his desk. Blessedly, it was an ordinary Muggle item which told the time properly; he despised having to measure it in terms of 'Tea Time!', 'You're Late' and 'Shouldn't You Be In Bed By Now?' He cleared his throat.

"You may clean up and leave. In silence."

Like dogs responding to Pavlov's Bell, the class jumped to their feet instantaneously, clearing up and stuffing miscellaneous items into their bags with remarkable energy, whilst chatting to each other.

"I believe I requested _silence._" Severus said, quietly but threateningly. In the quiet that fell just as quickly, you could hear a pin drop.

Hermione, seeing her chance to talk to him about Draco, packed her things away slowly. In annoyance, she noticed Ron doing the same thing, Harry watching him in amusement.

She smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I might be a few minutes clearing this up. You two go ahead."

Ron smiled brightly back but spoke firmly. "Nah, we'll help you."

"Er…okay…" Hermione cleaned up her Potions equipment (noticing that Ron wasn't actually being all that helpful). As she left the room, she tried to catch Snape's eye, but he didn't look up from the work he was marking. With a resigned sigh, she left with Harry and Ron in tow.

Ron, visibly more relaxed now, began to talk about a Quidditch match that had taken place over the last holidays. Seeing her chance, Hermione made a noise of irritation.

"I've left one of my books, I'll have to go back." She turned. Ron caught her arm.

"I'll go, Herm, you just-" She shook him off firmly.

"Don't be daft. I'll go." With that, she turned again and made her way quickly back.

Ron gritted his teeth as he looked to his friend. The black haired teen had a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"And what are you smirking about?" He muttered over his shoulder as he stormed off down the corridor. Harry rolled his eyes slightly. Ron did have some insane ideas sometimes. Maybe he could excuse this to jealousy.

"Professor?"

Severus looked up as the door to his classroom creaked open. Hermione stood there. "I wanted to ask before, but I didn't get a chance. Would it be alright if I…I mean, can I…I need to see him…to know if he's alright…" She finished, looking determined but awkward.

"No," Severus replied.

"But Pro-"

"He's not alright. But he is safe for the time being. You may see him after dinner if you wish to that much."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you. I'll see you then…Professor."

A barely discernible nod both answered and dismissed her.

* * *

After dinner, Hermione bumped into Ginny on the way downstairs from the dormitory. The redhead smiled at her friend.

"If you've not got much homework to do, I'm just going upstairs to fetch a pack of cards so we can play Exploding Snap. Want to play with us?"

Hermione hesitated. "Maybe later? I have some work to finish up in the Potions room, I shouldn't be as long as usual."

Ginny opened her mouth, as if to say something, but then bit her lip. She shrugged. "Okay. I'll see you later then." She continued up the stairs.

Hermione frowned for a minute. Was it her or had Ginny just adopted a rather cool tone? Perturbed slightly, she carried on downstairs to the common room, school bag over one shoulder. She sped up a little towards the portrait hole, in order to avoid Ron and Harry's eyes. Slipping through it as quietly as possible, she was soon outside.

Exploding Snap in hand, Ginny entered the common room and set it down on the table. She began to deal out cards.

"Hermione can't play tonight. She's got more work to do," she said quietly.

Suspicions newly aroused in Ron and he looked at his sister. "When did she tell you that?"

"About a minute ago," answered Ginny, laying out the last card. "Though I can't say I'm surprised anymore. Ron, I- Ron?"

Ron had risen from his seat and left the room abruptly. She looked to Harry in question. Amusement with a trace of concern for his friends showed in his face, but he smiled warmly at the redhead, eliciting a slight flush on her cheeks.

"Shall I deal again?"

* * *

Hermione shivered slightly as she waited for her knock to be answered, and unusually, wanted him to open his door for her as quickly as possible so she could get somewhere near to the warmth of a fire.

The door was soon pulled open. Rather than retreating from the doorway and allowing her access, Snape held the door open for her to enter and remained there once she had come inside.

"I'm required to visit Dumbledore regarding his…condition tonight. I trust you won't mind my leaving you alone?"

Slightly puzzled at his courteous tone, Hermione nodded silently. As he started out into the corridor, recollection stirred within her mind and she darted quickly after him.

"Professor!"

Snape turned to see her delving into her schoolbag. She pulled out a neatly folded garment, looking slightly sheepish.

"Your cloak…I kind of…took it with me the other night. After all that happened, I didn't realise..." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry about that."

After a few seconds of his silent stare, Hermione took a small step backwards, wary of some sort of sarcastic rebuke. She didn't expect a slight nod.

"My fault entirely, Miss Granger, but I wasn't exactly at a loss over the matter. I do own more than one cloak."

Hermione smiled slightly before stifling it, not sure whether it was subtle teasing on his part, and if it was, in the dark about what to do with that fact.

"Just leave it in my office."

"Yes, Professor…oh, and where-"

"My rooms," he answered shortly before turning away.

Hermione felt rather dumbstruck. She knew that Draco had to be in his private rooms, where else would he be, but…had Snape just given her permission to enter them? And without him, she might add.

A confused smile lit her face. She wondered who else had seen the rare glints of his true character shining out from his cold exterior.

* * *

Once Snape had passed him, a Gryffindor rose from his spot in the shadows, his red eyebrows drawn close together in emotions he wasn't quite sure of. He knew one thing though; Harry would believe him now.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, what can I say? I don't see any point in apologising again, most of you who are reading this probably read the author's note that was posted a little while ago, before being removed (forcibly). Since starting college back in September, time has taken over me quite a bit and I've not dedicated much time to reading my usual favourite ongoing fics, never mind posting to my own. I really wish I had, because it has taken quite a lot of effort to get my mind back into these characters, not a thankless task, I enjoy writing for this 'ship still, but I feel it may still be a bit different to my writing style in the last chapter. Is it? Please let me know. I hope to get back on track with all those fics I was reading soon. I'm unsure of when I'll next update, but the fact that I was jotting down some new ideas for its direction means I won't be giving up soon.  
I was also re-reading _Anam Cara_ today and I wondered why I had given up. Then I realised why. I made a glitch in the plotline and I sort of chickened out with re-writing the last one or two chapters. Perhaps that's something I should be looking into as well.

Thank you for all of your reviews. I appreciate your efforts to get me writing for this again. takes deep breath So I guess I should get back to some individual responses.

**Ezmerelda****- **Hopefully you'll want to hug poor Draco in the next chapter too. Thanks for the review!

**Captain Oblivious- **How is QuickEdit these days? I'm a little out of the loop….I guess I will find out soon though. Thanks for reviewing.

**purplerebecca****-**Hope you think there's some more of that progression in this chapter. I have definite ideas now of how to include a little more speed in that way, but not too much. Thanks for your review!

**wackoramaco87- I** think your good luck must have worked because I love college. (Though I don't love this History homework I'm supposed to be doing right now.) Thank you for the e-mail you sent, it was received with a smile, and also thanks for your review!

**Kerichi****-** I have been receiving alerts for your fics, but due to turning off my review alert for a while, for some reason, I didn't receive any updates for a couple of months. One of these days, I will sit down and read them from start to finish (or at least current chapters if not endings). Thanks for the review

**KeithUrbanFan****- **Thanks for reviewing. Wally does indeed have a red and white striped hat. I'm not entirely sure why the names differ. Did you get the TV show years and years back? Remembers fondly  
**midniteblusoccer****- **I was indeed an obsessed fan of Buffy a while back, and watched it until the end. Now I'm not such a fan, but I remember that fondly too. I guess it was an essential part of my growing up grins And I'll remember your…advice? Though I doubt I'd ever have the opportunity. Thank you for reviewing.

**Natasha Vloyski-** I'm glad you liked it, and I'm sorry to have been such a neglectful author. Thanks for the review.

**Roth1900-** Lol, yes maybe it was a mistake, but I'm not going to resign yet. I hope the long wait hasn't dampened your opinion of me? Just out of interest, are you a teacher or student at your university? Thanks for the review!

**M'cha**** Araem- **Glad you liked it. Thank you for the review.

**pantspie****-** looks nervous If you were in 'silent fury' then…I think I'm in trouble now. Hope this appeases you. Thanks fore reviewing!

**Astrea**** Von Hurston-** I have a need not to make Draco evil in the majority of things I write including him. It feels…too easy for me I think, But then again, I applaud other authors who use his potential 'evilness' in a creative and refreshing way. It's not always a bad thing. Thank you for the review.

**embattledcurve****-**College has been great so far and I've not got tired of it yet, so that's a good time. This time last year, in high school, I wanted to pass back to a time where there was no education.

Unpleasant appointment? Let's just say there was a needle involved. I'm sure you're a fantastic dentist, but I've never been the biggest fan of the practice. (Huge understatement.)

And as for the branding, some emblems don't always stay the same. And life can never be perfect. It's there to symbolise the stain on his life his father has made, not just the Dark Lord. I stay with my decision. I didn't want it to be the big finish of this story. Thank you for the review.

**Evain****- **You may be in shock right now, since I actually did pick up my pen, eventually. It's funny that you mention about the grey eyes, because when I first started reading through this a while ago, I picked up on it. It shall be corrected at some point. (Lazy? Me? Nooo…) Thank you for the review!

**Munching Munchkin Management- **Thanks for the review. Hermione hasn't exactly suddenly been trusting Draco. That's one reason I didn't start this story in September, in order to have her character assessment of him building up for some time. Hermione doesn't judge on first sight, I've got from the books, and I believe she would take second chances if her gut feeling tells her it's right. His attitude and personality have given her a basis for trust and the events that unfold her only strengthen that foundation. I hope that satisfies you. Thanks again!

**_DistinctVagueness_**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Losing Sleep**

**By Distinct Vagueness**

_(This chapter is for Helen AKA Stokes who helped with the tweaking of this chapter and has been repeatedly prodding me to return to the world of fanfiction. Thank you.)_

**Chapter 13**

Far from restful slumber, Draco had spent the day drifting in and out of wakefulness and tormented sleep. This instance, the sound of the bedroom door softly clicking closed alerted him to somebody else's presence and brought him to wakefulness. He was about to tell Snape what to do with any words he had for him this time, when he felt the touch of a cool hand on his forehead. He blinked in confusion and opened his eyes, trying to clear away any bleariness.

"You're very warm," said a soft voice. "Just hang on a second."

He heard the springs of the bed creak slightly as the speaker got to their feet and walked across the room. Another door, to the bathroom he supposed, was opened gently.

"Is this the…ah, thought so," said the voice. With some whispered words, light sprung from the small room and the sound of water from a tap sprung to Draco's ears.

The water stopped some seconds later and he heard the person cross the room. The next thing he was aware of was the feel of a damp cloth being carefully placed over his heated forehead.

"Hopefully that'll help keep your temperature down a bit," said the voice, noticeably female now. In confusion, Draco lurched upwards, the cloth falling from his face and onto his lap.

Hermione sat beside him, watching in concern, but making no effort to tell him to lie down.

"What're you doing here?" he asked sharply.

She gave him a tiny, humourless smile. "To take care of you."

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, before slumping down again and turning on his side. With a fresh bout of pain, he realised that he had lay down on the wrong arm. Withholding his harsh intake of breath, he remained there. "Hermione…please. Go away. I don't want you involved with this. Go back to Potter and Weasley and forget about me."

Hermione sighed. "Now you're the one being ridiculous. I've been trying to see you since yesterday. Do you really think that I'm going to just leave you alone?"

"Granger-"

"No, _Malfoy._ I want to see your arm."

Draco froze for a second before his expression, unseen to Hermione, turned bitter. "Why? Do you get a thrill out of seeing the Dark Mark?"

"If you count feeling ill at the sight of it as a thrill, then yes." She stood up again and moved to the other side of the four-poster. She knelt down by him, ignoring the chill the grey stone beneath her knees sent to her bones. Hesitance took her at first, but then she reached out a hand to touch his face.

"Don't hide it from me. Please. I'm not going to look without your permission, but just don't…hide from me." She looked into his grey eyes before slipping her warm touch from his cheek. When it seemed that his unresponsive gaze was unyielding, Hermione began to rise from the ground in silent resignation. Draco suddenly grasped her arm and she sank back down again, watching him expectantly.

Very slowly, Draco sat up again. Keeping his eyes trained on Hermione's, he slowly pulled up the left sleeve of the robes he was wearing.

She tried not to wince, but wasn't very successful in her efforts. Emotionlessly, Draco began to pull the sleeve back down, but she quickly put her hand out again to stop him.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect it to be so…"

"So what?" snapped Draco. "Repulsive? Permanent?"

Instead of answering, Hermione tentatively touched the burnt skin. The strangest chill ran down her spine as she stared at the unresponsive eyes of the inked snake.

A sudden sickly taste in his mouth and the lurching in his stomach made Draco shudder. "Don't-"

The faintest stir of fizzling began at Hermione's fingertips. Before she had a chance to question what it was, an abrupt sensation of burning shot through her hand and up her arm, paralysing her momentarily before she jerked and fell hard upon the ground, her face screwed up in an expression of hurt. Draco was out of the bed in an instant, mentally pushing away all the pain in his arm.

She wasn't unconscious, he realised with relief; the shock from his Dark Mark had temporarily stunned her and she'd fallen heavily. Arm around her shoulders, he helped her up. Hermione was staring between both of their arms and then bit her lips as she examined her afflicted left hand. The skin was scorched red, blistering as she watched. Seeing that she didn't need his support, Draco backed off.

Hermione looked up at him, her head shaking almost imperceptibly. "Amazing, really," she said softly. "How anyone is able to infuse a person's skin with so much…pure hatred."  
"Sick, more like," Draco muttered. His brow furrowed as he took in the condition of her hand. "Look, I'll just get some water for your-"

He stopped when he saw the way she was looking at him. Not sympathy, somehow she sensed he wasn't a fan of that, but a kind of mutual sadness.  
"It's funny," she said quietly. "Everyone knows how much Harry suffers and what he has to go through…but…"

"Don't."  
She looked at him in question.

"I don't need to be reminded how much Potter has that I don't. It's funny really…he's seen as some poor, orphaned, lone hero…there's just the fact that's he's not alone. Not really. Gods know I wouldn't want Weasel as a best friend, but he has you, the rest of your House…hell, everyone knows Dumbledore would adopt him if he had the chance…not that the Weasley's haven't already taken care of that…"

"You take more notice of these things than you let on, don't you?" Hermione asked.

Draco didn't reply. When neither spoke for a few moments, the pale Slytherin allowed himself to slump back against the bed frame slightly. He closed his eyes. There was no sound to open them, until he, inexplicably, found that a pair of warm arms had crept around him. When they opened, his grey eyes found themselves staring into a mass of brown curls. He was motionless. It wasn't like he'd never been held in a girl's embrace before…but not like this. There were no implications, or complications. It was just a hug, but without explanation, he felt somewhat reassured. Just as his hand stole around to touch her back in kind, he felt her warmth draw back and a tiny smile was stowed upon him, not just from her lips but from her dark eyes too. She released him, looking a little bit embarrassed, and got to her feet.

"I need to put some water on this- it's just a burn, I'll be fine. You shouldn't be up…this is my fault. Get back into bed."

"Hermione…"

She turned but he suddenly found he had nothing to say. She nodded, understanding. "I'm okay, honestly." She went into the bathroom again.

Draco slipped in between the sheets and laid his head upon the pillow. Though his brow was furrowed at first, it gradually softened and his eyes began to close.

Hermione ran the tap with her free hand, and while she winced as the icy stream trickled across the scarlet coloured burn marks, she didn't make a sound, biting her lip to stifle it. She wasn't sure why she had just hugged him; all she knew was that it had felt as natural as hugging Harry, Ginny or Ron, when he wasn't being a prat. It was an impulse to carry out towards them, and it had suddenly become an impulse towards him too. Though her doubts about Draco's character had disappeared in her heart some time ago…they had now been completely erased from her mind.  
Having done all she could, Hermione turned of the tap and patted her throbbing hand gently with the green hand towel she had found hung neatly by the sink. She left the darkened bathroom and stopped in the doorway at the sight of a dark figure leant over the bed. Professor Snape had returned from his meeting with Dumbledore, she realised. She remained silent and watched as concern passed over the Potions Master's face as he observed the sleeping young man. His jaw tightened.

Not feeling right about watching him so silently, Hermione cleared her throat, but took care to curl her injured hand into an unnoticed fist first. He turned abruptly, looking wary at first. When he saw her, his countenance relaxed slightly.

"Miss Granger."

He took a glance at the now peaceful boy nearby. "Has he been awake?"

"Briefly," she said quietly. "I think he may have caught a cold, though, his temperature was quite high before."

Snape nodded. "I'll give him something for it."

Hermione bit her lip. "Would you mind if I went back now, Professor? It's just that I'm a little tired."

He shook his head. "No, of course not. Gods knows you should have been there well before now."

Hermione hid a small smile. "Goodnight, Professor." Her small gratification at his would-be concern temporarily made her forget the sting in her left hand. She reached out for the door handle and immediately regretted it, biting her lip as the touch of cold steel to her skin only served to aggravate the pain. Suppressing it, she managed to twist the handle and made her way outside.

Severus studied the closed door with some curiosity. He had noticed the odd expression on her face as she had made the exit and he had also noticed the tiny smile that she had hidden from him. It wasn't possible to hide the shine that had lit up her warm eyes as she smiled.

A smile appeared on his own face before he sought to push it down, irritated with his thoughts. This was not the first time they'd taken that turn. He'd started to notice certain things about Miss Granger that a Professor should never notice. And though her intelligence was never forgotten by him, that was not the only asset of hers that trespassed through his mind.

* * *

As she emerged from the darkness of the dungeon corridor, Hermione blinked in the brighter light of the entrance hall, its flickering candlelight foreign to her eyes. On her way up the main steps, she paused, taking in the redness of her hand. Choosing to ignore it, she sped up and made her way to Gryffindor Tower. 

At some time in the early hours of the next morning, Hermione awoke –rather thankfully- from a vivid dream of intense flames, malicious laughter and a heart-chilling scream. She easily realised what had caused the heat in her dream, as she muttered the incantation to light the candle by her bed to study her hand. The redness hadn't subsided and the skin which had blistered was beginning to peel. She touched it gently, to find that it had become tender and sorer.

She glanced around in the dim light. Her roommates were sleeping peacefully. Hermione wished she could join them as she stifled a yawn, but then an idea came to her.

Slipping on thin robes over her oversized t-shirt and stripy pyjama pants, Hermione grasped the candle, quickly pulled on her slippers and made her way down the stairs, through the common room and out of the portrait hole.

For her peace of mind, as she walked along the hushed corridors, she cast a silencing spell on her footfalls. She wouldn't be in trouble if someone saw her out, she knew, as Head Girl she was given that privilege, but it would be easier to avoid that issue altogether. Speeding up, she traversed the steps leading to the infirmary. As she reached the door, she hesitated. She didn't think Madam Pomfrey would be awake at this hour, unless she had a patient to treat at this time, but she doubted it. Touching the tip of her wand to the door handle, she whispered a spell so that the door would open silently and neither creak nor scrape against the floor.

The infirmary held its usual clean, hygienic smell that clung to its every corner, but it was not lit and bustling as usual. A serene calm hung over every empty bed. The door to Madam Pomfrey's personal rooms was closed, with no light resonating from under it. Feeling safe, Hermione stole towards the main cupboard where she knew the medi-witch kept her general stock of medicines. She was surprised to find it unlocked, but realised that, since the items inside were not particularly dangerous in any case for the students, it wasn't completely necessary.

As she pulled the door open, Hermione blinked sleep away and yawned again, wishing that she was still asleep and ignorant of her injured hand. Through barely open eyes she ran a finger along the various bottles and containers she found inside.  
"Pepper-up Potions…acne treatment…ah…"

She pulled out a small, blue-coloured bottle. A small label on one side, written in concise, spidery handwriting described it as a _'Lotion for mild to extreme burns. Apply a small amount three times daily to the afflicted area until skin has healed.'_

She smiled; this was what she needed. Closing the cupboard gently, she slipped the bottle into her pocket and silently made her way from the room, completely unnoticed.

Ten minutes later she had crawled tiredly back into bed. The lotion had lent a comfortably numb sensation to her hand and allowed her the opportunity she need to drift back to sleep.

* * *

Ginny paused in her eating as she felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up. Hermione stood behind her with a small apologetic smile on her face. 

"I'm sorry I was…well, like I was, last night. It's just…it's really important I focus on my work right now, and I guess I forgot about you and the others…I wouldn't mind having a couple of games tonight…that is, if you're not busy…"

Ginny grinned and Hermione felt some weight drop from her mind.

"Of course…but be prepared for me to destroy you in Exploding Snape."

Hermione smiled back as she dropped down onto the bench. "I wouldn't expect any less."

Eating his own breakfast, Severus watched the Gryffindor table with discretion. Over the years, he had learnt to tune out the buzz and chatter that wasn't necessary to hear, and could instead focus on the conversation between the Weasley girl and Her- Miss Granger. Nothing of particular significance; just some small talk about a homework problem Miss. Weasley was having.

"…it's just that however much water I pour into the pot, the Talloweed sucks it up straight away, and Professor Sprout tells me off for being negligent…"

"-You'll need to put some common Muggle weeds in with it too- it gives balance to the soil. Some extra nutrients could help as well…"

Severus's attention was diverted momentarily by the appearance of Potter and Weasley as they came into the Great Hall and sat amongst the other Gryffindors. Potter said something as he helped himself to pumpkin juice and the rest laughed. While not laughing, Hermione had an appreciative grin on her face. In her humour, she glanced up and caught him watching her.  
The grin stilled on her face and seemed to die but her eyes remained locked upon his for a few moments more. She seemed to come back to herself suddenly and joined in with the rest of the conversation, though looking slightly preoccupied.

Severus noticed that as soon as their eyes broke apart, she moved her left hand closer to the edge of the table, pulling it closer to herself. To anyone else it would have seemed an unconscious motion, but to him it seemed strange. Come to think of it…on past observations, he'd never seen her eat a meal without using both a knife and fork. This morning she simply held a fork in her right hand. He frowned and then shook his head. What difference did it make? He put all his concentration into staring at his plate; he was paying far more attention to the girl than he should.

"Severus?

He glanced round. Madam Pomfrey stood beside him.  
"I know it's short notice, but would it be possible for you to brew some of your burn healing lotion soon? I was certain I had a bottle of it left, but when I checked some of my inventory this morning, it was gone."  
"Gone?" Severus repeated.  
"Well, it's entirely possible I used it and forgot it was my last bottle….but still…I could have sworn-"

"I understand," Severus cut in quickly. "I have some free time later, I should be able to make some then. About seven?"

Pomfrey nodded. "Thank you, Severus."

She was about to turn when Severus suddenly caught the Headmaster's eye. Dumbledore spoke up.

"Poppy, it would be very helpful if I could speak to you this evening, perhaps before you collect the potion from Severus?"

The medi-witch looked a little surprised. "Of course, Albus."

As students and teachers alike drifted from the room, Severus looked up once more to the Gryffindor table. Potter and the two Weasleys were saying something about 'Quidditch practice', while they stretched and began to get up from the table. Miss Granger gave them a vague smile and a wave as she took another sip from her cup, and continued to leaf through a book she had got out of her bag a little while ago. Quite absorbed in the text she was reading, she reached out with her left hand to pick up her drink again. She immediately winced, glanced at her hand somewhat critically and chose to use her right hand for all other actions.

"I think it would be prudent if you were to make an appearance tomorrow. The least of your problems right now should be taken care of tonight."

Draco looked at his godfather. "What do you mean?"

"Madam Pomfrey will be coming down tonight, with Dumbledore. She'll take a look at you, treat what she can, I expect."

Draco looked panicked. "Pomfrey? But she-"

"Experience tells me she is completely trustworthy, Draco."

The younger Slytherin looked uneasy, but was silent. Severus placed the book he had been holding on the bedside table. "It would do you good to learn a few things while you're still in here."

The young man looked sceptical, but reached for the book anyway. It was a standard seventh year Transfiguration textbook.  
Severus was about to leave him to it when something occurred to him. "Draco…did anything happen last night with Miss Granger?"

A pale eyebrow rose, reminding the darker man eerily of his father. But something unrecognisable passed across Draco's face.  
"I may not have joined the Death Eater support rally, but that doesn't mean I'm lusting after Gryffindors, thank you very much."

His sarcastic comment startled Severus inwardly; he wasn't sure why.

"That wasn't what I meant."

Draco frowned slightly before looking more serious. "She said she was fine, after that, I fell asleep…"

"What do you mean, 'she said she was fine'?" asked Severus suspiciously. "Why would you think she wouldn't be?"

He didn't fail to notice how the young man's grey eyes pulled away from him and the low tone of his voice. "She touched the…mark."

"Then wh-" Severus stopped, recognition flooding his features. "I see." He shook his head, looking troubled. "You should have told me."

Draco still wasn't looking at him. "How did you know something had happened?"

His godfather had already gone towards the door. "Just a hunch," he replied.

"Hi, Neville," said Hermione warmly as the young man sat next to her at the desk.  
Neville gave her a smile. "Homework?" he asked.  
"Not really, just some extra research for Potions."

Neville held up the Herbology book he was studying. "Professor Sprout asked me to do some reading up on root infections. Some of the flowers in Greenhouse 2 aren't looking so good."

"I guess you're still helping her out some nights during the week, then?"

Neville nodded. "Professor Sprout has offered me a, erm…apprenticeship."

The girl sitting next to him beamed. "Really? That's great. Are you going to take it?"

"I'm pretty sure I will. I mean, it's one of the only subjects I'm not terrible at...so I might as well."

"You're not terrible at any subject," Hermione admonished. "And you've been more confident the last few years. Don't hold yourself back. It's considered an honour for students to be asked to stay on after seventh year. It proves that you really have a natural talent for the subject."

Neville had gone a little red. "Thanks, Hermione."

"He won't be able to leave the library should you continue to give him such a swelled head, Miss Granger. Do desist."

Neville froze, as usual, while Hermione whirled around in her seat.

"Prof-"

"My office, Miss Granger."

"But-"

He was no longer listening, having already made his way to the door. Madam Pomfrey peered at her suspiciously from behind her desk as she followed him, book in hand.

* * *

Neither spoke a word as he swept along before her, heading in the direction of his office. Hermione offered tentatively- 

"Professor…is Dr-"

The look the dark Potions professor gave her as he turned sharply, silenced her. She immediately felt like an idiot for almost bringing the subject up where anyone could hear it.

When they neared his office, Snape murmured something under his breath, allowing the door to open. He stepped inside and then held the door open as she also entered.

"Professor, what-"

"Strange thing this morning, Miss Granger. Madam Pomfrey asked me to make up a new batch of burn healing potion, since her last bottle, curiously enough, seems to have disappeared."

Hermione froze for a second, but wasn't sure why. It wasn't as if she had to hide it from him as she did the others.

"Sir-"

"Then…Draco tells me you left here in a somewhat injured state last night."

"That's a bit exaggerated, it was just-"

"A burn of which I believe you received if not to be taken lightly. Surely you know certain curse scars can lead to lasting consequences if touched by someone other than the bearer."

There was a sober expression on Hermione's face. "The lotion took down the inflammation, Professor…I believe it's eased the pain too…"

She jumped a little as Snape suddenly grabbed her injured hand. She felt awkward as his eyes examined her palm critically. He dropped it and crossed over to a cabinet. After looking through hits content for a few moments, he pulled out a small glass jar, containing a yellow balm.

"Give me your hand, Miss Granger."

Somewhat hesitantly, she allowed him to take it again. He had unscrewed the lid of the jar and had scooped a generous amount onto his finger. She expected it to twinge as he began to apply it, and looked away. Instead, all she felt was a pleasant sensation in her skin. She looked down to see what he was doing.

Very gently, the Potions Master was running his index finger in small circles in the centre of her palm, which made for a smooth application of the healing balm, but it also soothed her slightly. She was abruptly very aware of how small her hand was, placed in his large, pale one with its long fingers. She was also aware of how neatly they seemed to fit together.  
"I'm sorry," she said softly.

He looked up from his task, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"For making you go to this trouble. I should have realised…"  
"Don't be ridiculous. I would have warned you that the Dark Mark is volatile and resistant for several days after it is placed…especially to M-…"

"Mudbloods?" she said, not looking at him

"Muggleborns," he answered firmly. "I didn't see the need to…I didn't think you would actually touch it…or that he would let you…obviously an oversight on my part. I apologise."

"It was my fault. I should have known better. I'm sorry."

Snape sighed. "Must you persist, woman?"

Hermione giggled beside herself, and he quirked an eyebrow at her. He'd stopped with the treatment by now and was simply just holding her hand between his two but neither seemed to notice. She was smiling for a few moments, but then, unexpectedly, her eyes began to glisten. She blinked and a solitary tear slipped down her cheek. Embarrassed, she wiped it away with her free hand and then glanced back at her professor. To her surprise, he was watching with concern.

"You hand still hurts? Maybe I should use something stronger…"  
"No...I," Hermione attempted to shrug it off. "I don't know, it…" She broke off, and breathed in deeply, trying to push back her tears. But as she exhaled, she suddenly burst into tears. At first she was mortified at such a display, and went to pull away from his hold on her hand. He didn't let go, but instead, pulled her towards his chest. It was an awkward embrace but she responded to it. It felt warm, safe…but most of all…she felt a sense of belonging. These robes scented with sandalwood and sage, this strong chest…this…

…man?

Startled, Hermione pulled back a little, her sobs subsiding. If that realisation was a mistake, then so was her glance upwards. He was watching her expression and she shivered at the intensity that shone in those charcoal eyes. Fearful of moving, she remained locked in his gaze, not daring to stray from it.

Warning signals screaming in her head, Hermione could only watch, paralysed, as his eyes softened and his face came closer to her own. But as she unconsciously tilted her head upwards slightly, she knew there was no true paralysis.

Severus could only seem to watch from a distance as his body took an action that his mind would never allow inordinary circumstances. Time seemed to stagnate in that small room, as everything he deemed to be 'right' fled from his thoughts. These were notordinary circumstances, and suddenly, irrevocably, to him, she was not an ordinary girl.

Woman.

As their lips came into contact with a feather-light touch, Hermione was rapidly drowned in unexplored territory. Tentatively, she began to kiss him back.

A knock at the door threw them apart as if they'd been touched by electricity.

"Professor Snape! Sir, someone's been hexed in the common room! He's gone purple! Professor!"  
The breath taken out of her, Hermione could only sink into the nearest chair.  
He didn't make eye contact, but looked suitably shell-shocked himself as he issued the command;

"Stay here. I'll be back soon."

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter is a little longer than the previous ones; consider it a present for being absent for so long. You may notice an amusing error somewhere above. I realised when I typed it, but decided to leave it in for humour's sake. Well, I've nothing much else to say…I just hope you like the ending. I didn't plan for that to happen here, but I didn't feel like pushing it into the next chapter either. Ah well, tell me what you make of it. I actually like most of it myself...but, heh...anyway, moving on... 

Oh also- I'm issuing a warning to all authors. Do not engage in wrongful neglect of SS/HG shipping. Multitudes of plot bunnies know where you live. They will find you...

**WinterSolstice- **Yes, I think you're right…somehow this chapter was easier to write after I let it come naturally rather than forcing it. How's everything with you? When I get a chance, I'll send you an e-mail. Thanks for the lovely review, as always.

**Quill in Hand**- Please don't explode…looks nervous Thank you for the review and I'm glad you like it so far. I love you too

**MrsAliciaWeasley- **We'll convert you yet amused Thank you for the review!

**Myredreis- **I sympathise with finding good stories to read sometimes, but if that happens, I usually traipse over to Ashwinder and try their random fic generator, since all fics there are moderated and quality-checked. Go have a look if you haven't been there yet! Thank for your review.

**Munching Munchkin Management- **Whatever you're on, I want some of it…that's meant in the nicest way possible. grin Thanks for stopping by and reviewing.

**Kerichi- _'_**_The other half of Kerichi writes the Inuyasha fics and told me, 'Hey, isn't DV that Losing Sleep chick who hasn't posted in forever?' and I said 'Yes! She's alive, she's ALIVE!'  
_Thanks for your, as always, entertaining review D Made me laugh. I promise I will definitely get back on the reading as soon as I have a nice free time slot to enjoy them without rushing.

**Oya-** I think Sev was a little preoccupied to notice that night. And if he wasn't then, he'll certainly be now snickers

**Magicalwonder-** Don't worry, this is definitely a SS/HG fic, through and through, though I might conflict that a little as you'll see.

**Fire-icecat- **Ron will eventually come to his senses, I think. I don't actually hate good ol' Ron, as some of my stuff would lead you to think…I just have fun making him the antagonist.

* * *

**_DistinctVagueness_**


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